The Damned: PART 1: INNOCENCE
by queenpearl
Summary: Davy Jones isn't the only one with a storied past. The Dutchman has her own secrets to tell. Rated T for later chapters.
1. prologue

Prologue ATLANTIC OCEAN MAY 1748

The ships lined the Eastern and Western horizons for miles in every direction.

So many ships, it seemed impossible to count them all. One side heavily outnumbered the other.

On the Western Horizon, sat a small group of galleons, sloops, brigantines, frigates and East Indiamen's, all converted for the purpose of piracy.

Across from them was the Enemy Fleet, the most powerful force on the planet, the Royal British Navy.

The ships of the line presented a formidable presence as just in behind them, lower second and third rate ships stood along with frigates, brigantines, and a few sloops and supply ships that would sit out the worst of the fighting.

But none, not even the great Victory-class ship of the line, HMS Endeavour, could match the ship that was leading this attack.

The Royal Navy ship stood beside her commander at the front of the line.

"Think we can take them?" She asked.

The ship beside her was an older but experienced Dutch fluyt, designed to speed not only with the wind, but against it.

She looked like a wreck that had lived on the ocean floor for many years.

Her hull was covered in barnacles, and her sails were made more of seaweed than cloth.

Her bowsprit boom had become the upper half of a set of powerful jaws with razor sharp teeth.

But what was even more frightening and awe inspiring at the same time was her eyes.

They were a deep, amber-gold and they seemed to glow with an ethereal light. It was not natural and it did intimidate Endeavour a bit but she'd learned to relax.

After all, Dutchman wouldn't hurt her right?

Dutchman grinned at her. "Their numbers are barely a fifth of ours. They stand no chance against the might of the British Navy." She said.

Endeavour growled her agreement.

Dutchman turned her gaze back to the significantly smaller line of ships.

Movement was seen as they all raised their colors. Each individual jolly roger flapped in the wind.

Some were the traditional black, others were more vibrant in color but each was unique in its own way. And, dare Endeavour say it, beautiful.

The warship tensed her muscles for the sight meant there was no turning back, no other alternative but war.

Dutchman shook her head, sighing.

"If only they had the sense to change their minds." She said sadly.

Endeavour was about to scold her, reminding her of her duty to vanquish all pirates when she remembered that Dutchman had been a pirate herself.

Not like the Brethren no, she identified with no pirate group but she was a pirate.

She flew no flag, sailed with no fleet. She was completely on her own.

More than once Endeavour had wondered about her companion. How could anyone live such a lonely life?

But whenever she had asked Dutchman or at least tried to ask her, the sailing ship shrugged her off with a harsh word and an icy eye.

It only took once for Endeavour to realize that maybe there was more to Dutchman than met the eye.

She was cursed, that much was obvious and Endeavour had a suspicion that a painful dark past was behind it.

Dutchman's gold gaze swept up and down the enemy's line as though she was looking for one particular ship.

Her eyes narrowed when she found what she was looking for and her teeth became bared.

Endeavour followed her gaze and spotted a black ship directly across from her.

She stood front and center and the additional flags raised up her masts indicated she was the flagship for this attack.

Endeavour didn't need to search for further identification. The black hull was enough. "Pearl." She snarled.

Dutchman nodded. "Aye, Black Pearl. Pirate Queen of the Caribbean, the Leader of the Nine. Only I am capable of defeating her. I want you to focus on Troubadour." She ordered.

"Yes Dutchman." Endeavour replied. She grinned and added "This'll be fun."

"It'll be a turkey shoot is what it'll be." Dutchman sighed. "I was hoping for a bit more of a fight."

She turned to her subordinate. "The enemy has opted for oblivion. Ready the fleet." She said.

Endeavour nodded and made a quick 180.

"TO YOUR STATIONS!" She commanded.

The ships quickly formed ranks. "HMS Rose, you'll command the left flank. Keep at least one battleship close at all times." She ordered the brigantine.

"Aye, aye HMS Endeavour!" She cried.

"HMS Aurora?!" Endeavour called. "Here, HMS Endeavour." The three masted warship replied.

Her hull still bore the scars of the fight with the French that ended just 5 years earlier and she still moved with a slight limp from a crippling cannon shot she took to her starboard quarter.

She moved to the front of the line.

"You'll command the right flank." Endeavour ordered. "Your main task will be to assist me in destroying Troubadour and her escorts.

"Aye, aye HMS Endeavour!" The slightly smaller ship sang eagerly.

Endeavour chuckled to herself.

Aurora was a good warrior, eager to please, eager for the fight but not bloodthirsty.

She was proud but without arrogance. She should've been named Dauntless.

Endeavour felt a twinge of pain at the thought of her friend. She died chasing the very black ship that now lead the Brethren Force.

But Endeavour didn't come here for revenge. She didn't blame Pearl for what happened.

Dauntless knew she was overmatched, she knew she could never catch Pearl, especially not in a hurricane like that but she attempted it anyway.

It was foolhardy, it was dangerous, and it was just plain stupid.

In her last months, Dauntless had become as obsessed with capturing Black Pearl as her Commodore.

Endeavour sighed as she looked out to the black ship. Though she was too far away to see clearly, she could feel Pearl's green gaze on her and it did not feel friendly.

She was one of the few ships in the Royal Navy that had known Pearl as Wicked Wench. Endeavour had known her before that even.

She'd been the one who led the force that captured the black vessel when she was still the Dutch Indiamen Moonlach Onthude.

She'd befriended Pearl and had come to think of her like a sister. No, Pearl was a sister to her, a soul-sister.

It had broken Endeavour's heart to hear how she was treated working for the EITC.

She knew that Pearl would never condone the hauling of slaves, she believed in freedom.

Endeavour never liked the trade either. As a warship, she was never designed to carry slaves but she'd sailed with a few and more than once, had gagged on the strong smell.

The business of slavery was disgusting, it was wrong and immoral and it had to stop.

When Pearl had dared speak such things she was burned for her actions and Endeavour had thought she'd lost her for good.

She was happy that Pearl was still alive. Did she like the fact that Pearl was a pirate, no she did not!

Not because as a Royal Navy vessel, she hated piracy, which she did by the way, but because she feared for her soul sister.

Piracy was a dangerous business and each day, more and more pirates met the hangman's noose.

Endeavour feared Pearl wouldn't be so lucky to escape death a second time.

Facing her soul sister now, Endeavour knew that she could not kill her. That's why she'd instructed Dutchman to conduct the task.

She'd soon as rather let Pearl sink her than harm a deck plate on her hull. After all these years, she still loved the black ship and she always would.

Dutchman's words snapped her back to the present.

"Hmm?" She mumbled.

Dutchman sighed. "I said, are the ships ready?" She asked.

Endeavour nodded readily. "Yes, yes they are." She replied. _"Let's just get this over with." _She thought.

She looked out again upon the open sea, once again feeling Pearl's gaze sweep over her though it had softened somewhat.

_"__I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" _She thought hard. She only hoped after all these years that their connection still worked.

Apparently it did for she heard Pearl's gentle reply. _"I know, I am too Endeavour." _

Dutchman snorted. "Soon you won't have to put up with that pesky connection anymore. I'll finish off Pearl myself." She snarled.

A part of Endeavour wanted to scream _"No! No I won't let you! Take me, kill me instead!" _But her training took over and she kept silent though her eyes still pleaded to Dutchman.

She took no notice of her, her eyes were fixed firmly on Pearl.

"I raised you from the depths all those years ago and when your time was up, I returned you there." She snarled. "I can do so again and today I will."

Endeavour braced herself for Dutchman's inevitable commands. She had time though to send one last thought to Pearl.

_"__I love you." _Pearl's surprise was clearly felt but her own sweep of love filled Endeavour. _"I love you too." _She replied.

"ATTACK!" Dutchman roared and the Battle of the Maelstrom began.


	2. Chapter 1

**PART 1: INNOCENCE**

**Chapter 1** AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS JUNE 2, 1675

By gaging the sun, an observer would say it was nearing midday.

It was very warm for this far north, even though summer was just around the corner.

The temperature was a nice and toasty 75 degrees, a heat wave for the Netherlands.

The summer was shaping up to be long and hot which didn't bode well for farmers.

But inland duties were the last thing on people's minds at the moment, at least in Amsterdam they were.

Today was the beginning of a new era for the Dutch Navy as the first of a new class of warship was being launched.

While not a first rate ship of the line by any means, the new Lang Schadow-class had close to 20 guns, a reasonable number, some of them up to 36 pounds, the heaviest of the day.

They had three masts and were rigged for speed. They also were scheduled to have a pair of bow mounted triple chase guns that would make them a formidable weapon against any fleeing opponent.

The leader of the class, the Lang Schadow herself, was scheduled to be launched within the hour.

The warship shifted on her keel. She was annoyed, and it wasn't the first time, at the discomfort the drydock presented.

The place was confining, it was restrictive, and just plain awkward.

She was a ship, meant to sail the open seas, not be confined to some silly dock.

"Ah, don't worry," said a man. "You'll be out and about soon enough."

The warship's green eyes brightened considerably. "Vandecker!" She exclaimed happily.

Captain Mario de Silo de Vandecker was a 20 year veteran of the Dutch Navy.

He'd served aboard every ship, from the small frigates to the great first rate ships of the line.

Born of a poor family, he'd been brought up on a lowly farm in the English countryside.

His mother was a weaver and made a little money off of her works but that was squandered by his alcoholic father.

At 16, Vandecker ran away from home and enlisted in the British Navy.

He served 5 years aboard HMS Inconstant before being honorably discharged at the end of the last war.

With no job and no money, he searched the harbors for work, and eventually found it here in Amsterdam.

He worked as a bookkeeper for several years until a lucky break found him back in the service. He hadn't looked back since.

His current command was a 380 foot long, 25 foot wide third rate ship of the line.

Lang Schadow was nearly 4 decades in the making. It had taken the navy forever to get around to building her and rumor had it that she had a sister ship being built in Rotterdam.

She had been freshly painted for this occasion.

Her golden hull gleam in the sunlight, giving it an almost sparkly hue and her red stripe shone. Her colours waved proudly in the wind.

She held her head proudly, today was the day she joined the fleet.

As people began to fill the stands, soon to be Captain Vandecker took his place amongst them.

An Admiral came up to the podium. "How nice it is to see so many people here today to witness the launch of what is the finest ship in the Dutch Navy."

Lang Schadow dipped her head modestly, the praise embarrassing her.

She heard Captain Vandecker give a slight chuckle at her blush, which only made her turn even more read.

She sent him a glare and he shut up.

"At least he still has some sense." She thought to herself.

The Admiral continued talking for another 3 quarters of an hour before the signal, a cannon shot from another ship, the battleship Eendracht, sounded the start of the ceremony.

A young lady, who had yet to be married, approached Lang Schadow.

"In the name of King William III, I name you Lang Schadow." She cried and swung the wine bottle.

It broke and Schadow felt the liquid run down her bow. She licked her lips appreciatively at the taste of the alcohol.

The signal was given and down she went, sideways into the water.

Water splashed up along her sides and for a few seconds she feared she'd be too heavy and capsize but with some effort, she managed to shake the water off and right herself.

She heard cheers from the crowd as she settled upright on the water, standing tall and proud.

Captain Vandecker couldn't have been more pleased as he climbed aboard to take command. "

"Well done Lang Schadow!" He exclaimed.

The sailing ship smiled. "Thank you captain." She replied.

She had made into the water, now for her maiden voyage.

Her orders were to travel down to the Cape of Storms to retrieve supplies such as provisions and small arms and return.

It was a dangerous voyage all the way around. The Atlantic was treacherous and the strong currents surrounding the tip of Africa were even more so.

The weather could change for the worst in an instant and the seas were always rough.

Only the most experienced ships dared tackle such a place but the navy seemed to thing she could handle it and Vandecker did too.

So, she set sail for the port now known as Cape Town, South Africa.

It would be many years before she saw her homeland again.

The voyage down to the Cape was fast and the winds were favorable most of the way.

Lang Schadow had the chance to really stretch her wings and fly and she impressed everyone when she achieved a mind boggling 12 knots.

"Any faster and you'll take off from the water and fly my dear." Vandecker said.

Lang Schadow laughed. "I'd rather keep my keel in the water." She replied. "But I know what you mean. It's incredible. I never thought I could sail this fast."

"Well you can, you're doing it now." Vandecker replied.

"13 knots!" A man called. "Whoo." Vandecker muttered to himself.

Lang Schadow was enjoying all the attention she was getting and decided it wouldn't hurt to race into port a little early.

She could imagine just how surprised they would be to find her there so soon.

Grinning, she lowered her head and charged on, gaining speed.

"18 knots!" exclaimed the man. Vandecker looked like he was about to faint.

"Should I slow down captain?" She asked, amused. Vandecker was about to answer when the lookout cried "storm dead ahead!"

Lang Schadow swore to herself. _"Of all the miserable luck."_ She thought crossly.

_"Well this is the Cape of Storms. What'd you expect?"_ A small voice in her head retorted.

_"Shut up."_ She told it and silence greeted her.

Dark, ominous clouds loomed ahead.

"I don't like this. I don't like this one bit." Vandecker muttered.

"Somehow you read my mind captain." Lang Schadow grumbled.

"I'm your captain, we have a connection, that's how." He replied simply. She sighed and ignored him.

Her crew hauled in most of the sails, leaving only the fore and forestay sails up for maneuverability.

Lang Schadow braced herself for one of nature's most deadly onslaughts but there was really little she could do against the force that was the storms of the Cape.

The wind and rain buffeted her as she plodded along. She wasn't even sure if she was going in the right direction anymore.

_"Right direction be damned."_ She thought. _"I'll be lucky just to get out of this in one piece."_

Unfortunately, she wouldn't be that lucky.

Up ahead, she saw a distortion in the water. She could feel a change in the current as it pulled her closer.

Then she could see what it was. "Maelstrom!" She cried fearfully.

Her captain and crew rushed to their stations, prepared to do anything to avoid the deadly phenomenon.

Sails were launched and set, her helm was turned hard over as she tried hard to catch the wind but instead of helping her, it only made it worse.

The wind had changed direction and now it was slowly, but surely, pulling the helpless sailing ship into the whirlpool.

Schadow knew she was going down but that didn't mean her crew had to go with her. "Launch the lifeboats!" She cried.

At Vandecker's agreement they did so, though they knew that the chances of them surviving this storm were small.

Lang Schadow turned to the last remaining man on deck. "Vandecker, you too!" She growled.

He shook his head, his hands running gently along the spokes of her wheel.

"A captain goes down with his ship." He said.

"I don't have time for you silly ideals. Go now!" She growled and leaned sharply to port, tossing him overboard.

She knew he could swim so it was no worry. "I'm sorry Vandecker, it's because I love you." She whispered.

The Maelstrom had her in its grasp now and around and around she went. Her stern sank into the dark hole of the abyss and her bow rose up high in the air.

She heard and felt a loud crack and cried out as her ribs gave.

Her eyes flickered over to where she knew her crew had gathered in the lifeboats but her eyes were for only one.

Vandecker met her gaze evenly, sorrow etched on every line of his weathered face.

To Lang Schadow, all that mattered was that he was safe.

Her last glimpse of him was seeing him standing in the prow of a lifeboat.

She smiled, then her mainmast snapped and her world became that of rushing water and eventually, darkness as she sank to the cold abyss.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2** THE LOCKER, AUGUST 1675

She was cold, oh so cold. Every board, every line on her was tense with it. Lang Schadow had never been so cold and being from the North she was used to the cold but not this, not this.

_"Am I dead?"_ She asked herself.

Opening her eyes she decided the answer was no.

Looking around she could see she was in a makeshift tent of some sort. Supplies were spread around, stacked in neat piles according to use.

As she rose up to get a better look at her surroundings a stab of pain wracked her and she dropped back down.

She glanced at her side which was wrapped in bandages. "Broken ribs." She murmured.

She wondered how she even got here, then she remembered. The Maelstrom.

A million questions raced through her mind. Where was she now? Where was Vandecker? Was he alive? Did the crew make it out alive?

Her thoughts were interrupted as the tent's entrance rippled and another ship entered.

She was a large three masted British galleon around 450 feet long with a 50 foot beam which seemed wide but actually made her look quite robust. Her top deck was maybe 30 feet above the waterline and she likely had another 10 feet below the surface, if not more.

She had three rows of cannons for a total of 90 guns or 45 on each side, 15 per row.

Her masts were wracked back to grant her more speed and she looked like she could carry quite a bit of canvas.

But the most striking thing about her were her eyes.

Sparkling a deep ocean blue, they reflected wisdom, grace, and power. Lang Schadow had never seen such eyes on a ship.

The way she held herself suggested that she was in charge and she knew it but she wasn't arrogant about it.

She had the look of a proud commander, proud but not arrogant. A fierce warrioress dedicated to her master, whomever that may be. A Dauntless, that's what she was.

"Who are you?" Lang Schadow asked, on guard.

"If I wanted to harm you, I would've done so already." The ship replied.

Her voice was deep, but not cutthroat and it had a musical tone to it.

Lang Schadow could almost call it beautiful if she wasn't so frightened of the strange place she was now in.

"As for who I am, I am HMS Britannia." She said.

Lang Schadow was sure she looked ridiculous as her jaw dropped.

Of all the ships, none was more revered, even by the Dutch and the French, who hated the English, than HMS Britannia.

She was the Divine Protector of the British Empire and as rumor had it, one of the two ships to survive the Great Flood, the other being her sister Ark.

She was said to be immortal, having been granted the gift of eternal youth by the Ancients though she could still die in battle.

She was no opponent any sane ship would want to face, unless they had a death wish that is.

"My apologies." Lang Schadow said, bowing low.

Britannia laughed. "You are forgiven young one." She replied.

Moving forward, she nudged Lang Schadow's side gently.

The fluyt winced. "They are healing nicely." Britannia said quietly.

She looked at Lang Schadow who stared back in wonder.

"Where am I?" She asked. "You are in a place known as the Locker." Britannia replied. "It is a place for the dead, a resting ground for humans and ships alike as their souls travel to the next world."

"Am I dead?" Lang Schadow asked.

Britannia laughed softly. "No." She replied. "No, you are very much alive I assure you.

The Maelstrom you were in was a portal."

"Why am I here?" She asked. "You are here because I brought you here." Britannia replied.

"Why?" Lang Schadow asked.

"Because I need you to do something for me." Britannia replied.

"Name it." Lang Schadow replied.

Britannia's blue eyes narrowed. "Do not be so hasty." She said. "I need you to ferry souls from your world to here. The journey is becoming too hard on them as the veil grows ever thicker."

"You want me to ferry souls? Like the Ferryman?" Lang Schadow asked.

Britannia nodded. "Yes." She replied. "By doing so, you'll also become my apprentice. You'll be granted powers by the Ancients and become immortal like me."

Lang Schadow's eyes brightened. Being immortal sounded very appealing to her. She could check dying off her list of things to do.

As she opened her mouth to speak, Britannia stopped her.

"But be warned. "The old galleon said.

"Should you renounce your duties, renounce your ancestors, or break your oath to me in any way, you will be punished for eternity." She growled.

Lang Schadow couldn't see how she could ever do such a thing as betrayal so she agreed. "I'll do it." She said bravely.

Britannia smiled though her eyes remained dark. Did she know something about Lang Schadow that she herself did not?

"Repeat after me." Britannia ordered. "I, Lang Schadow third rate ship of the line of the Royal Dutch Navy."

"I, Lang Schadow, third rate ship of the line of the Royal Dutch Navy." Lang Schadow repeated.

"Do hereby and solemnly swear." Britannia said.

"Do hereby and solemnly swear." Lang Schadow replied.

"To carry out the duties as the ferryman under the noble, divine banner of the Ancients, my ancestors, until I am released from my command." Britannia said.

"To carry out the duties as the ferryman under the noble, divine banner of the Ancients, my ancestors, until I am released from my command." Lang Schadow finished.

Britannia moved forward, touching her prow to mine.

"Then, by the powers of the Ancients, I, HMS Britannia the Divine Protector of the Great British Empire, Princess of the Seas, hereby commission you, Lang Schadow third rate ship of the line of the Royal Dutch Navy, as Vliegend Vedmens, The Flying Dutchman. Rise, my apprentice!"

Flying Dutchman did, her green eyes fixed on Britannia's blue ones.

She moved forward, and nuzzled her mentor.

Britannia seemed a bit surprised but she nuzzled back eagerly.

"What of my powers you spoke of?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"Those will come with time. You will learn as you come to use them." Britannia replied.

Flying Dutchman nodded. She winced a bit as she moved.

Britannia gave her a hard nudge. "It's back to bed for now." She said. "You'll start your training in the morning. It's late."

Flying Dutchman nodded. "Alright Britannia, I shall obey." She replied.

Once she had settled in, Britannia turned to leave.

"Please stay, I never liked sleeping alone." Flying Dutchman begged.

Britannia paused and turned back around, smiling gently. It seemed she knew no other expression.

"If you insist." She replied and circled around, dropping down beside her apprentice.

Her hull gently brushed Dutchman's and the fluyt purred.

A question popped into the younger ship's head just as she was settling down to sleep.

"Britannia?" She asked.

"Hmm." Her mentor replied sleepily.

"Have I been speaking in English this whole time?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"Language is one gift you were guaranteed to have. You will speak each language as though it is your native tongue, though you cannot tell the difference." Britannia replied.

"Now sleep." She ordered.

Flying Dutchman had no trouble obeying, she was exhausted.

_"Flying Dutchman, I'm the Flying Dutchman now."_ She thought.

And so, she drifted off to sleep an entirely new ship.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 THE LOCKER AUGUST 1675

The next morning, Britannia took Flying Dutchman outside.

"The cycle of the sun works opposite here than it does back home. Sunrise in your world is sunset in this one." She explained.

Flying Dutchman nodded. "How do I go back and forth between them?" She asked. "If I'm gonna ferry souls I have to have a way to reach them.

Britannia nodded. "There are methods." She said. "None of them particularly pleasing but likely your powers will compensate for that."

Flying Dutchman nodded and rested low on the water, her side aching again.

Britannia nudged her gently. "Hey, you alright?" She asked.

Flying Dutchman nodded. "Just, it hurts is all." She replied.

"Well if you feel like you need to rest just let me know. I can't have you capsizing on me." Britannia said.

"Will do." Flying Dutchman grunted.

Britannia led the way farther out and as she did Flying Dutchman began to notice strange formations in the water.

They shimmered and glistened, sparkling like rainbows on the surface and just under it.

They had no substance, no solidity and moved with the water as though they were part of the ocean itself.

"What are they?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"Spirits." Britannia replied, her voice tight. "Souls beyond the care or help of you and me. They must find their own way to the next life and most never make it."

Flying Dutchman looked at her mentor and saw the fearful, haunted look in Britannia's eyes. If she didn't know any better, she'd say that the older ship was scared.

Britannia bit her lip, her eyes scanning the water in front of her warily.

Several times, spirits made close passes to her, taking advantage of the wake she produced, almost like dolphins.

They got closer and closer on each pass and eventually, one actually touched her.

The point of contact was on her port side, just forward of the shoulder.

A shudder wracked the sailing ship from bow to stern and her eyes slipped closed.

A quiet groan escaped her.

It was Flying Dutchman's turn to be concerned.

"Are you alright Britannia?" She asked.

Britannia seemed distracted, she kept staring at the souls traveling beside her, her blue eyes darker than ever.

"Britannia, hey!" Flying Dutchman growled.

She dropped back and nudged her mentor firmly in the side.

Britannia started and blinked before looking over at her apprentice.

"Are you alright?" Flying Dutchman repeated. "Should we head back?"

"I'm alright Dutchman." She said. "But I think it's best if we do head back."

Flying Dutchman nodded and nudged Britannia gently around in a 180, taking the lead on the return journey.

The pair reached home around sunset or sunrise if you were still alive technically.

Flying Dutchman helped Britannia into her berth, docking beside her.

Sweat poured down the older ship's hull and her eyes were still dark and haunted looking.

Flying Dutchman nuzzled her prow.

Britannia looked at her. "I'm alright." She managed.

"You sure?" The younger ship asked skeptically.

"I'm sure. Just, certain spirits bring back certain memories." Britannia replied.

She turned away from her. "Now I'd like to rest if you don't mind." She said.

Flying Dutchman took the hint and nodded. "Alright, sleep well." She whispered and sailed off to her own berth nearby.

Leaning against the dock, the young ship closed her eyes and fell happily to sleep.

A scream woke her in the middle of the night.

Flying Dutchman was on alert at once. She snapped her mooring lines and raced over to Britannia.

Britannia was leaning against the dock, shivering. Her eyes were wide and she was struggling to get her breath back.

Flying Dutchman licked her nose. "Hey, I'm here." She whispered. "It's alright."

Britannia calmed down somewhat and leaned into her apprentice.

A quiet sound reached Flying Dutchman's ears and that's when she realized that Britannia was crying. She was actually crying!

She rocked back and forth gently. "Shh, shh it's alright." She whispered.

Eventually, Britannia calmed down somewhat and looked up at her apprentice.

"I suppose you're wondering why I woke you." She said.

"I was thinking about it, yes." Flying Dutchman replied.

Britannia sighed. "It was 1666, also known as the Year of the Beast. The Dutch and the English were at war and it was in full swing." She sighed and closed her eyes.

"I was in charge of a unit of ships. Unusual as I don't usually make my presence known to the general British public but the empire needed ever y ship they could get." She said.

"Our task was to capture the port of Cape Town for passage to the Far East. Intelligence reports indicated that my force outnumbered the Dutch 8 to 1."

Flying Dutchman held her breath, she knew what Britannia would say next. She knew of this battle, the biggest defeat for the English.

"Apparently the Dutch had their own inside agent and sent more warships to defend the port. We found ourselves in an even battle but the Dutch, they-they had the better ships. Those that survived the battle, a majority of them were later sunk in a storm on the trip home. By the time we reached England, only an 8th of our original force remained."

Flying Dutchman was speechless. "Oh, Britannia…" She moaned. She couldn't imagine the pain the older ship was feeling. To lose an entire divisions of warships, that had to be haunting.

Britannia leaned into her apprentice. "It was my fault." She moaned. "I should've expected such a move, I should've pulled back."

"Shh, shh it's alright." Flying Dutchman whispered, hoping to somehow comfort the older ship.

"I let them die!" Britannia wailed. "I should've died with them!"

"Don't think that." Flying Dutchman whispered.

"What kind of leader am I, to let my troops die." Britannia moaned.

"Shh, shh…" Flying Dutchman said. "It's okay, Britannia. It's okay."

"They weren't ready, I knew they weren't ready!" Britannia cried. She struggled to hold back the onslaught of tears.

"Just let it out, Britannia just let it out." Flying Dutchman whispered, rubbing her side soothingly with her prow.

Britannia let out a loud wail and buried her bow in her apprentice's side.

"That's it, just let it go." Flying Dutchman said gently.

She cradled Britannia gently against her side, rocking back and forth in a soothing manner.

Britannia's tears were soaking her hull but she didn't care. She wanted to try and ease her mentor's pain in any way she could.

Silence fell on Flying Dutchman's ears and she looked at Britannia to see the older ship had fallen back asleep though she occasionally whimpered.

_"Poor thing." _She thought sadly. _"She wore herself out crying like that." _

Flying Dutchman shifted slightly to accommodate Britannia's weight.

She didn't try to go to sleep herself, rather she focused on the horizon and the many stars above it.

Flying Dutchman wasn't sure if the Ancients could hear her in this realm but she prayed to them anyway.

She hoped that somehow, the power of her ancestors could soothe Britannia's eternal pain.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 THE LOCKER SEPTEMBER 1675

The weeks passed and Flying Dutchman's wound slowly but surely healed. The three masted Dutch fluyt was soon ready to take on her new duties as the farrier of the dead.

Britannia had told her much in that time, explaining to her not just her duties as the ferryman, but also to the British Empire as well.

"Now I know you're Dutch." She said. "And you'll hate this but as my apprentice, you have a duty to protect the Empire as well as I."

Flying Dutchman frowned. "As if I'd ever help those lowly Brits!" She snarled.

Britannia shook her head. "Hatred will be your downfall with that kind of attitude, Dutchman." She said sternly.

Flying Dutchman opened her mouth to retort then closed it again. It wouldn't do to snap at her mentor.

A sigh escaped her and reluctantly, she nodded for the old sailing ship to continue. Britannia nodded her thanks and went on.

"I am the Protector of the British Empire. You are its Keeper. Your job is to act as the policeman of its waters and ensure trade runs smoothly. My job is to chase anyone out that doesn't belong." She said.

Flying Dutchman dipped her head. "I understand, Britannia." She replied.

"Good, then we should get going. It's almost sundown after all." Indeed she was right, the sun was beginning to touch the horizon.

"How do we get back?" Flying Dutchman asked. "With your powers." Britannia replied.

"Remember what I taught you. Draw strength from the changing cosmos, as the sun hands the sky to the moon's care. There is a powerful force there, harness it."

Flying Dutchman nodded, closing her eyes and concentrating hard. She could feel the sun's waning strength, and the moon's powerful pull.

There was a power transfer here, between Earth's two most powerful celestial bodies.

Flying Dutchman drew from that transfer, taking the power of the cosmos into her own body.

She could feel it like fire in her blood and it seemed like, suddenly, she knew what to do.

The power reached beyond her body's ability to hold it inside. Britannia came up close alongside as Flying Dutchman released it in the form of a bright green flash.

The next thing both ships knew was they were lying on their sides in an unfamiliar sea.

"Ugh." Flying Dutchman groaned.

"You alright?" Britannia asked.

"Yeah, a bit queezy though." Flying Dutchman replied.

"It'll pass." Britannia assured her. "For a first time that was impressive Dutchman, very impressive." She praised.

Flying Dutchman ducked her head shyly and Britannia laughed.

"Shut up!" She mumbled, blushing furiously.

The old sailing ship just laughed again.

Flying Dutchman growled when suddenly an idea came to her, a very naughty idea.

Eyes sparkling mischievously, she scooped up some water and launched it at her mentor.

"Ack!" Britannia choked as it struck in the face.

"That's for laughing at me." Flying Dutchman growled, crouching down, her stern wagging playfully.

"Oh so it's gonna be like that hmm?" Britannia asked, dropping down as well.

"Bring it!" Flying Dutchman hissed. "With pleasure." Britannia replied and lunged.

She bowled Flying Dutchman over where the apprentice sailing ship spat a waterspout at her.

"Eek!" Britannia giggled. "I'll get you for that!" She yowled as Flying Dutchman righted herself and raced away laughing.

"You can't catch me!" She sang. "I bet I can!" Britannia replied and tore after her.

The two ships kept this up for a good hour or two before Britannia finally gave up.

She collapsed on the water. "Ugh, okay. You win!" She sighed.

Flying Dutchman circled back to come up alongside her mentor. She was panting tired too.

"You sure gave me a hell of a chase." Britannia sighed.

"I'm faster than I look." The fluyt answered.

"Were you always rigged to run against the wind?" Britannia asked curiously.

"Somewhat. I was meant for the cape run and the builders thought it a good idea to give me the option of ever running into the waves or away from them." Flying Dutchman replied.

"Probably a good idea. Having no sails up is not always a good thing." Britannia said.

Flying Dutchman nodded her agreement. She helped her mentor upright and the two sailed on.

An hour later they came across a small dingy that might've once been part of a lifeboat for a ship.

There was one occupant still alive inside. Flying Dutchman's extra senses could tell that.

"How many?" Britannia asked her as her apprentice opened her jaws to taste the air.

"About 30 of them." Flying Dutchman replied after a moment.

She narrowed her eyes as the pair got closer to the boat. "The one that's still alive..." She murmured. "It couldn't be. It is! Vandecker!" She cried.

"You know him?" Britannia asked. "He was my captain." Flying Dutchman replied.

"Go on then, quickly now." Britannia ordered. Flying Dutchman squealed in delight and raced away.

"Vandecker! Vandecker!" She cried.

The man, weak from lack of food and dehydration looked up to see the fluyt charging towards him.

"Hmm?" He mumbled.

"Vandecker, oh please tell me you can hear me. I know that you're alive!" She cried.

"Yes, yes I am..." He sighed.

"It's me, Lang Schadow."

"Lang Schadow, I thought I lost you..." He murmured, reaching a hand out to stroke his ships nose.

Flying Dutchman gladly let him. "I'm alright. The maelstrom merely took me somewhere else is all." She said.

"Where did you go?" He asked.

"I was taken to a place called the Locker. It's where souls go on their way to the next world, a stopping ground if you will. For those who perish at sea." She replied.

"I see. And you were one of those souls?" He asked.

"No, I'm very much alive. The maelstrom was a summons." She explained.

"A summons? From who?" Vandecker asked.

"From me." Britannia replied as she approached. "Captain Vandecker, I do apologize for the manner in which I summoned your ship but she has a purpose she must fulfill in this world."

"And what purpose would that be?" Vandecker asked. "She is to ferry those lost at sea to the other side. The veil is becoming too thick for them to attempt the journey on their own." Britannia replied.

"So she's some sort of ferryman then?" He asked.

"Aye. But what's a ferry without her Charon." Flying Dutchman said. "You want me to be her captain." He realized.

Britannia nodded. "She must have a captain. Otherwise, she'll become mortal and die." She replied.

He nodded. "The dead deserve their peace. It's only fair we give it to them." He sighed. "Very well, I shall do as you ask."

Flying Dutchman pressed her muzzle to him. "Come on then captain, climb aboard." She said.

"So I shall my dear Schadow." He replied.

She giggled. "In the language of our fore fathers, I am known as Vliegand Vedmans." She said.

"The Flying Dutchman." He murmured.

She nodded.

"I'll need a crew." He said as he set foot on deck.

"I think I know just the place to find one." Britannia said.

Flying Dutchman looked at her mentor with a sly grin.

"Tortuga?" She guessed.

Britannia smiled back. "Tortuga."


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 TORTUGA OCTOBER 1675

Britannia sailed into Tortuga with Flying Dutchman right behind her.

Several ships paused to stare at the huge ship of the line and the three masted Dutch fluyt.

A few, probably former British sloops and brigs, actually saluted.

"As you were." Britannia rumbled gently.

She sailed in to the dock closest to the pub known as the Faithful Bride. Flying Dutchman joined her there.

"Now Vandecker can go ashore and find some crew. This is the best place to do it." Britannia said.

"And us?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"You're going to stay here out of trouble. I have to speak to the other Pirate Queens, well the ones who are here anyway." Britannia replied.

"Me, trouble?!" Flying Dutchman asked innocently.

Britannia's eyes narrowed. "Yes you." She retorted. "You're a magnet for it, whether you realize it or not."

Flying Dutchman sighed. "Yes Britannia." She agreed and the old sailing ship sailed off.

Flying Dutchman settled down to view the sights of Tortuga.

It most certainly wasn't that bad of a town. In fact, it was quite a nice little place.

Ships entered and exited the busy harbor and the streets were filled with drunken and drinking people.

The woman sat on barrels, a bottle of rum in each hand, chugging away and cooing enticingly at every male in sight.

The boys on the other hand, were rather enjoying themselves either in a drinking contest or if someone did something to piss them off and with a drunken pirate that didn't take much, they'd draw out their swords and start slicing away at each other.

Flying Dutchman found she didn't mind the intoxicated that much.

They stayed clear of her dock, keeping their jolly good time well away from her which was fine. She didn't mind. It wasn't like she could party like a pirate anyway.

Nearby a few ships were joining in on the fun. Flying Dutchman watched them curiously, eager to learn as much as she could.

One, a little sloop, noticed her. "Hey, miss. You wanna join in?" She asked.

"What are you playing?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"It's called dice. It's a human game but it's a fun one." She replied.

"What you do, is you have all the players make a bet on what the dice are gonna turn up as. The one who guesses the closest, wins. But we all have to make a wager."

"And what's the wager?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"Right now, we're wagering to see who's gonna go and pester Britannia." She replied.

"Are you really that scared of her?" Flying Dutchman giggled. "Aren't you?" She asked. "Wait, who are you?"

"Flying Dutchman." She replied. "I'm Carolina, I was a British sloop until about a month ago. Best change of flags I've ever had!" She laughed.

"Who'd you come here with?" "Britannia." Flying Dutchman replied, fighting a smirk.

"Wait, you... Are you her apprentice?" Carolina asked.

"Yep." Flying Dutchman replied proudly.

"Well it's about time!" Carolina exclaimed, her eyes gleaming.

"What do you mean?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"We've been pestering her for ages to find an apprentice. After all, she's certainly getting up there in years and these are dangerous times for Britain, who knows what could happen." Carolina said.

"But she's immortal." Flying Dutchman said.

"Not from battle she isn't. She can be killed just like any other ship." Carolina replied. "So can you."

Flying Dutchman shifted, finding this piece of news a bit unsettling.

"How old is she now?" She asked.

"She'll be 7500 next week. Didn't she tell you that?" Carolina answered.

"No, she didn't." Flying Dutchman replied, turning to look at her mentor across the harbor.

"Well, Britannia's got her own secrets. Every ship does and it's not my place to ask." Carolina replied.

"Then who's is it?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"Whoever loses this wager of course!" Carolina laughed. "Now pull up a seat and join us."

Flying Dutchman shrugged and decided, well why not.

The group ended up playing the game for hours.

Flying Dutchman lost a few times before she got the hang of it.

"6 2's." She said. Sure enough, she was spot on.

"Dang it!" Carolina grumbled. "How are you doing that?"

"I'm not doing anything." Flying Dutchman giggled.

"Except winning the pants off of us." Carolina muttered.

Flying Dutchman just laughed.

Vandecker returned just then, a full crew behind him.

The first thing Flying Dutchman noticed about her captain was he was swaggering much more than usual, his sailor walk more pronounced.

The men behind him were doing the same and they all smelled funny.

Flying Dutchman wrinkled her nose at the strong smell, even stronger than the one wafting off the Faithful Bride into the harbor.

"Ick! What is that?" She asked.

"Why, that's the rum of course!" Carolina laughed.

"The what?" Flying Dutchman asked.

The sloop looked shocked. "Now don't tell me you've never heard of rum!" She exclaimed.

"Sorry, no I haven't. I was launched just 6 months ago and haven't made a port since. Most of that time I had no crewman on board." Flying Dutchman replied.

"You poor, poor lass." Carolina tsked. "I know just what you need."

She grabbed a bottle off the dock and held it out to her. "Here you are." She said.

"Erm, is this a good idea?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"Come on! No ship in this port is going to be a teetotaler on my watch!" The sloop growled.

Sighing, the fluyt took the offered drink, using her teeth to pry the cork off.

Tipping the bottle back, she took a long swig.

The liquid was warm and made a firey trail down her throat but it was also sweet like honey and it made her mouth water for more.

She quickly took another swig.

"Not too fast now." Carolina chided. "The stuff can be pretty strong if you're not used to it."

"Says the rum soaked pirate ship." Flying Dutchman teased.

Carolina laughed. "Alright then Miss Dutchman, have at it." She replied.

Dutchman nodded her thanks and a third swig finished it off.

She looked around eagerly for more.

Fortunately, Vandecker had the cure for her thirst.

"Liking me drink are ye?" He asked.

"Here, all drinks on me boys!" He shouted and the crew whooped and cheered.

Thus begin a series of trips back and forth between the Faithful Bride and Flying Dutchman's dock.

Drinks were brought down and the crew partied on deck.

Flying Dutchman herself took part in the festivities and her berth mates took up the idea themselves.

Soon that entire section of the dock was host to a mob of drunken pirates and their ships.

"Yo, yo. Yo, yo a pirates life for me!" Carolina sang.

"Hey, think you can teach me that?" Flying Dutchman asked in her slurred English.

"You bet." The sloop grinned.

Soon enough, the fluyt and the sloop were singing away, lyrics of their song drifting across the harbor to where Britannia and a few of the more reserved ships in the Brethren fleet were berthed.

Britannia took one look at the festivities and sighed. "I should've known that despite my best efforts, that kid would find some way to start trouble."

She rolled her eyes, knowing what Flying Dutchman would have to discover the hard way.

If you're gonna get drunk on rum, be prepared to face the consequences.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 TORTUGA OCTOBER 1675

They partied well into the night.

Flying Dutchman wasn't sure how much rum she consumed. She only knew it was a lot.

Being the young, innocent ship she was she knew nothing about the effects of alcohol on a ship's body.

Eagerly, she consumed any bottle in sight.

"Drink up me hearties yo ho!" She sang.

"Now you're thinkin' like a pirate, lass!" Carolina chortled, downing her own bottle and smashing it against the dock.

An outbreak of feminine swearing was heard from the pair of lasses sitting there.

Carolina merely shrugged it off and took out another bottle.

Flying Dutchman downed the last few drops of her own bottle. "You have another one?" She asked.

"Thought you'd never ask." Carolina replied, handing her the one she was going to open.

The sloop then pulled out a second, fresh bottle.

"Where do you hide those?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"Below decks. They're stored as cargo. Perfect place for them if you ask me." She grinned.

Flying Dutchman nodded. "Any chance I could load my own hold up?" She asked.

"Not unless you've got some booty to share." Carolina replied.

"Well next time I'm out, I'll see what I can find." Flying Dutchman replied.

"Just don't let Britannia know. And for goodness sakes stay away from British shipping." Carolina growled.

"As if I'd dare cross that line. I won't harm the Dutch either. But the French and Spanish better watch themselves." Flying Dutchman grinned.

"Now you're talking!" Carolina laughed. "Let me know when you find some and I'll bring you me rum. Do we have an accord?"

"Agreed." Flying Dutchman said. "Agreed." Carolina said.

They toasted on it. Carolina took a long swig.

Flying Dutchman copied her, deliberately drawing out her own drink a bit longer. Carolina noticed.

"Oh you don't want to do that lass." She said.

"Try me." Flying Dutchman said cockily, taking another swig.

"Ooh!" said a few ships nearby.

A mischievous light entered Carolina's eyes. "Challenge accepted." She said.

The pair downed one bottle after another, the whole time getting drunker and drunker and as they did, their tongues loosened.

"I remember a time, when I was a little thing, fresh out of the shipyards." Carolina began. "I was a naughty thing then and I am so now. The first thing I did was steel a whole man's purse."

"Really?" Flying Dutchman laughed.

"Really." Carolina agreed.

"But when the man found out, of course he was furious and of course he was going to the authorities. Next thing I know, Sir John Beckett showed up at my dock.

He said 'Carolina, I've heard from a good friend of mine that he lost his purse recently. You wouldn't happen to know where it is would you.'

I replied 'You already know the answer to that my good John because if you didn't you wouldn't be here.'

Then he ordered me to hand it over. I did but in addition to the coin I left him a nice parting gift."

"Oh?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"Aye, I left him a nice big fat seagull stuffed inside!" Carolina laughed.

They both broke down laughing.

"Oh god, that's too funny." Flying Dutchman gasped, taking a swig of her rum to calm herself down.

"One time, when I was still being built, the workman were painting over my hull with a fresh coat. It was about 2 weeks before the launch. I was feeling cocky so I set a trap for the men and by the end of the day, they all went home to their wives and mothers covered in gold and blue."

"Oh gods, that _is_ too funny!" Carolina laughed.

"Aye." Flying Dutchman agreed, causing the sloop to burst into laughter again.

"What?" Flying Dutchman demanded.

"You. The way you say that word." Carolina giggled.

"Aye?" Flying Dutchman muttered.

Carolina burst into laughter again. "Oh gods, Dutchman. You're killing me here." She said.

Dutchman merely shrugged and downed the remainder of her bottle.

"I guess I pass this round. Ready for another." She asked.

Carolina grinned. "Oh bring it!" She replied.

The two continued on in there silly drinking contest.

Though Carolina was smaller, she was a rum soaked pirate and so her tolerance for the stuff was higher.

But Flying Dutchman was larger than her and so the two seemed about even.

Until, that is, Dutchman got the upper hand by downing two bottles at once.

Carolina tried to follow but the sudden rush of rum broke what was already a fraying tolerance and she collapsed, passed out drunk.

Flying Dutchman shrugged indifferently, the rum having gone straight to her head.

"I guess I win then." She said and finished off her bottle.

Flying Dutchman groaned as she stared at the bow shaped mark she made on the dock.

Then she turned her gaze upwards to the culprit of said mark.

"Vandecker, what was that for?" She asked.

"Time to go, Shadow." He replied.

She groaned. "It's still early. Leave me be." She whined and curled back up to sleep.

Sighing, Vandecker slammed the two cook's pots in his hand together and they made a loud clang.

"Wha-whazzit?" Carolina murmured at her dock before passing out again.

Flying Dutchman however, leaped up in surprise, again slamming her head into the dock.

"Ugh! Vandecker, please!" She begged.

"Please me nothing!" Vandecker growled. "You can sleep it off when we get back to the Locker. Britannia's waiting for us."

Scowling, Flying Dutchman reluctantly agreed, allowing her captain to come up the gangplank before her lines were cast and away she went.

Once Tortuga had vanished from her view, she focused her gaze on the rising sun.

Again, the pull of the cosmos was strong, merely opposite this time.

Now it was the moon handing the sky back into the sun's care for the day.

Flying Dutchman was trying hard but she found it hard to focus, feeling queezy each time she tried.

"Come on girl, we don't have much time." Vandecker encouraged.

With a groan, Flying Dutchman finally managed to draw enough strength to fire the green blast.

If she thought the portal was bad enough sober, she had never known what it could be like on a hangover.

"Ugh!" She moaned.

She saw Britannia racing towards her. "There you are. I was beginning to worry." She said.

"Sorry." Flying Dutchman grunted.

Britannia's blue eyes turned concerned as she swept her apprentice with her gaze.

"You alright, Dutchman? You look a bit green." She said.

"That's an understatement." Flying Dutchman moaned, shutting her eyes tightly against the sun. The light hurt.

"Dutchman.." Britannia began only to jump back a second later, missing her apprentice's well aimed spew of rum filled vomit by a mere few inches.

"Here!" She said, brandishing a bucket out of seemingly nowhere. "Watch your aim."

She led Flying Dutchman back to their berth, setting the bucket down in front of her on the dock.

The fluyt moaned, then threw up noisily into it.

"Ugh, my head..." She moaned.

"Serves you right." Britannia scolded.

"You should've known better than to consume that much alcohol. And on your first time too. Although..." Her tone turned teasing.

"Anyone who can out drink Carolina deserves the day off in my book."

"You know about that?" Flying Dutchman asked, raising her head to meet her mentor's gaze.

"Aye, I was there the whole time. I only left about an hour before you did." Britannia replied.

"Oh." Flying Dutchman said and threw up again.

Britannia sighed. "Now that you know what happens when you overdo it, what are we not going to do again?" She asked.

"I'm never going near rum again!" Flying Dutchman moaned.

Britannia laughed. "That's impossible, love." She replied. "No ship can avoid man's favorite drink."

Flying Dutchman said nothing, she merely threw up in the bucket again.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 ATLANTIC OCEAN JULY 1677

A few years passed and Flying Dutchman had fully settled into her new job as the ferryman.

Britannia helped whenever she could but she had her hands full with matters in Britain.

France was being troublesome again and England needed all the help it could get.

Britannia spent hours in London speaking with members of Parliament on Naval Strategy.

Flying Dutchman couldn't imagine the patience involved, Politics was no place for the hot headed.

She knew that she would lose her stack if she had to take part in that.

Her thoughts turned back to reality when her senses picked up people in the water. Dead people.

She grimaced.

Her job wasn't one for the faint-hearted. Who could deal with seeing fresh bodies upon the sea and the occasional, sinking wreck?

Flying Dutchman sometimes did wish she could do more to save lives but that wasn't her job.

"She was to ferry the dead to the next world until the veil became too thick to travel through." As Britannia had told her the day she'd been commissioned into the Ancient's service.

Flying Dutchman closed her eyes, recalling that particular memory.

It was just after sunrise in the Locker. Flying Dutchman had been resting at her dock while Britannia went out during the night.

The old galleon sailed back in, triumphantly holding a pair of cod in her jaws.

"Nice catch!" Flying Dutchman called to her.

"Thanks." Britannia replied. "Took me forever. They just kept on swimming just out of my reach."

"Sometimes fish are too smart for their own good." Flying Dutchman said.

Britannia nodded her agreement.

"Here is yours." She said, setting the larger of the two down in front of her.

Flying Dutchman eyed the fish curiously. "Are you trying to get me fat?" She asked. "You always give me the bigger of the catch."

Britannia laughed. "Hardly, I just want you well fed." She said.

"I'm a quarter your size." Flying Dutchman said. "I don't need nearly as much as you do."

She nudged the fish back to her mentor.

"If you insist." Britannia shrugged and exchanged the two catches.

The two ate their breakfast in silence.

"How are those ribs healing up?" Britannia asked.

"They're still sore but I think they're alright." Flying Dutchman answered.

Britannia leaned over, touching her bow to her apprentice's side, feeling the injury.

"Well they seem to be healing well." She said. "But I think I might be able to speed up that process somewhat."

Flying Dutchman looked up. "Oh how?" She asked.

"I could channel the energy of my powers directly into the injury and use simple chemistry to help it heal faster." Britannia replied.

"Why couldn't you have done that earlier?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"My powers were not designed for this purpose. Focusing them to do such a task requires a lot of energy. I must be careful not to exceed my limit." Britannia replied.

"I see." Flying Dutchman nodded in understanding.

"Are you ready?" Britannia asked her.

"You're going to do it now?" She asked.

"Why not?" The older ship shrugged.

Flying Dutchman swallowed the last of her cod before replying "very well".

Britannia edged forward, pressing her prow against the bandaged section of Flying Dutchman's hull. Then she began to chant in Latin.

_"__Ut vulnus erit curaito. Ut vulnus erit Defaeco atque praevaricationem. Erit Libera! Erit Libera sinistra spiritus! Erit Libera! Erit Libera! I commodore!"_

(Let these wounds be healed. Let these wounds be purged of their transgressions. Be free! Be free evil spirits! Be free! Be free! I command thee!)

White-blue light surrounded the galleon's hull, drawing itself towards Flying Dutchman's wounded section as if called by sirens.

"Close your eyes Dutchman." Britannia murmured calmly as the light intensified.

Dutchman had no trouble obeying that command. She'd already done so the moment the light began.

She thought she heard Britannia groan but she didn't dare look. The light was just too bright.

A strange feeling worked its way through her ribs, a tingling sensation like feeling was being lost, then returned.

The light faded gradually and when it'd gone altogether, Flying Dutchman opened her eyes.

She turned to look at Britannia, finding her mentor lying helplessly on her side.

Fear took over and forgetting about her injury she raced over as fast as she could.

"Britannia!" She cried nudging her. She got no response.

She tried several more times before her frantic calls seemed to reach the weakened ship.

"Ugh, Shadow…" Britannia groaned, her blue eyes flickering open.

Flying Dutchman froze. Britannia had never called her that before.

"I'm here." She replied gently, nuzzling her.

Britannia returned the gesture weakly.

"Your ribs Shadow, are they… healed?" She asked.

Flying Dutchman did a quick check. "All seems well." She replied.

"Good. It worked then." Britannia murmured, her eyes closing again.

Flying Dutchman nudged her harshly. "Hey, none of that!" She chided. "Talk to me! Are you alright?!"

"I'll be fine, just let me rest." Britannia sighed.

Flying Dutchman remembered what Britannia had said about healing taking a lot of her energy and suddenly felt guilty.

"You didn't have to do that." She said.

"No?" Britannia mused. "No perhaps not."

"Then why did you do it?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"You are my apprentice, you are under my protection. It's my job to keep you safe and well." Britannia replied.

"That's my duty, do you know what yours is?" She asked.

"To ferry the souls of the dead." Flying Dutchman replied.

"To ferry the souls of the dead until the veil becomes too thick for even you to travel through." Britannia corrected gently.

"There will come a time where you will find that the barrier will be impossible to cross and when that time comes, the Ancient will release you from your duties and you will be free to join them."

Flying Dutchman nodded, understanding perfectly.

"And you?" She asked.

"I will remain by your side until my time comes." Britannia replied. "I can only hope that you will have learned to survive in this world without me when that day arrives."

"You won't die Britannia." Flying Dutchman growled.

"I may be ageless but I'm not immortal." Britannia replied. "Whether it is by disease or war, one day I will fall. These are changing times, my dear apprentice and one day, I will fight a battle I cannot win."

"I'll stay with you!" Flying Dutchman blurted.

Britannia turned one curious eye on her apprentice.

"I'll stay with you until the end when that day comes. I won't leave your side." Flying Dutchman promised.

"Thank you Shadow, you don't know how much that means to me to hear you say that." Britannia murmured.

Flying Dutchman nuzzled her gently. "Just rest Britannia." She begged. "I'll be here when you wake up."

A sigh escaped the tired old galleon and she closed her eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.

Flying Dutchman was shaking from her memories when the longboat, filled with the dead, pulled up alongside and one by one its passengers filed off.

The names were read off. "All present and accounted for." One man, Flying Dutchman assumed him to be the First Mate, reported at last.

Captain Vandecker came forward. "I'm Captain Mario Vandecker of the Flying Dutchman." He said.

"Captain Davy Jones of the Illigous out of Tortuga." A crusty blonde replied coming forward to take Vandecker's offered hand.

"A very nice ship you have here, captain." He said.

"The best I've sailed." Vandecker replied with a fond smile at his ship.

Flying Dutchman held her head high despite her rapidly blushing face.

"Well she's a beauty that's for sure." Jones agreed, giving the rail a pat.

Flying Dutchman giggled despite herself, feeling a bit giddy with all the attention she was receiving.

"So I am to assume that me and my crew are dead as it were?" Jones asked.

"Aye. We found your bodies floating in the wreckage." Vandecker replied.

Jones closed his cerulean blue eyes and sighed. "Well, I guess it wasn't entirely unexpected." He said.

He looked at Vandecker. "What may I do to assist your efforts captain?" He asked.

"There's really no need…" Vandecker began.

Jones held up a pacifying hand to stop him.

"No, but I am a sailor at heart. I am not yet willing to settle down in a peaceful afterlife. My men however, are free to disembark if they wish." He said.

"How long have you sailed the seas Captain Jones?" Vandecker asked.

"20 years. First with the British, then after a stint in privateering I went all the way and stole a ship to Tortuga. That was 7 years ago, haven't looked back since." Jones replied.

"I see." Vandecker mused. "Dutchman, what do you think?" He asked. "Should we let this fine young man serve as crew?"

"He's an experienced seaman. To lose such knowledge as he possesses would be a sin in my book sir." Flying Dutchman replied.

"There's your answer then." Vandecker smiled. "I myself sail from Tortuga with a fresh crew, but I lack a loyal first mate."

"I would be honored captain." Jones said with a slight bow.

"Then join Quartermaster Mattas at the wheel and check the bearing First Mate Jones." Vandecker ordered.

"Aye captain." Jones replied and leaped to it.

"Is everyone on board?" Vandecker asked his ship.

"Aye, all present and accounted for sir." Flying Dutchman replied.

"Good, then sail with the sun, my girl." Vandecker ordered.

With a cry of joy, Flying Dutchman sailed forward, now with a full deck of passengers, and a full crew.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 THE LOCKER JULY 1677

The jagged desert coastline is what may first come to mind when one arrives in the Locker.

But rather, that is merely a small part of it.

Beyond the African like desolate region, there is a beautiful tropical oasis that resembles a first class Caribbean island, complete with all the pleasures a sailor could have.

Taverns were stationed strategically on the coast and the streets were filled with woman.

The scene closely resembled Tortuga.

For the Royal Navy there was also a town resembling London, complete with all the buildings and people.

Not for the first time did the young ferryman wonder how such a replica could be created.

It was a work of the Ancients.

Pulling up to the pier, Flying Dutchman tied off and lowered her gangplank. "Alright, last stop. Everyone off who's plannin' to stay here!" She ordered gruffly.

The crew of the Illigous filed down one by one and each was immediately swarmed by a throng of man hungry whores, each with a full bottle of rum in hand.

Flying Dutchman laughed as each man was carted away.

"They'll have a jolly good time." She said, leaning forward as the local tribe's queen placed a wreath of flowers on her bow.

She kissed the ferryman before rejoining her tribe.

Flying Dutchman straightened up.

"Did you enjoy that?" Vandecker teased.

Flying Dutchman blushed despite herself. "Shut up!" She growled.

Vandecker just laughed leaving his ship to fume. "Ah, don't mind him." Jones said. "He just likes to tease you."

"I still don't like it." Flying Dutchman grumbled.

"Ya not supposed to lassie." He said. "He wants you to be annoyed."

"Why would he want that?" She asked.

"He likes ya. Oldest trick in the book." Jones shrugged.

"He likes me?!" Flying Dutchman repeated incredulously.

Jones nodded. "Aye and who wouldn't, a pretty lass like you." He replied.

Flying Dutchman ducked her head to hide her rising blush.

"Tis nothing to be ashamed of lass." Jones assured her. "Beauty is a good thing."

This only made Flying Dutchman blush harder.

Jones laughed and she huffed in annoyance.

"Shouldn't you be leaving too?" She growled.

"Oh lass you wound me so." Jones exclaimed, feigning hurt. "Not too long ago you were down on your 'knees' begging Vandecker to let me stay."

"That's an exaggeration." She sniffed. "I kept you around because Vandecker wants you around." She replied.

"I will get you eventually my dear Shadow." He said.

"Dream on Scott, dream on." She snorted.

He gave her rail a pat and walked off.

Shortly after, Flying Dutchman cast her lines and sailed off.

Britannia was her usual spot when she sailed in.

"What'd you find this time?" She asked.

"A shipwreck full of dead sailors. The Illigous. She went down in a storm."

"Illigous?!" Britannia repeated. "HMS Illigous?"

"She was apparently a pirate vessel." Flying Dutchman replied.

"I was aware she'd been stolen but I never knew she'd become a pirate because of it." Britannia bowed her head.

"You knew her?" Flying Dutchman guessed.

"I know every ship that's sailed under the Union Jack." Britannia answered, her voice hollow.

Flying Dutchman winced. "You know what I mean." She growled.

"She was one of the few ships in my force that survived that battle in the Cape." Britannia sighed.

Flying Dutchman nodded.

"She was already gone by the time I got there. I never sensed her presence."

"She must've already found her own way to he Ancients." Britannia said.

"I'm sorry." Flying Dutchman said, touching her nose gently to her mentor's side.

Britannia turned, pressing her prow against her apprentice.

"Thank you." She murmured.

She gave Flying Dutchman a gentle lick before she sailed out.

Flying Dutchman watched as her mentor sailed out a few miles before dropping anchor.

"Is she gonna be alright?" Jones asked.

"She'll be fine." Flying Dutchman replied, settling down in their shared berth.

"She seems so…" Jones struggled to find the right word. "Lonely."

Flying Dutchman nodded. "She is as timeless as the sea" She replied. "It's a lonely life."

"I can understand that." Jones said. "I never had any family besides me ship, me crew and the sea around them both."

"Sailing can be lonely but it doesn't have to be. I wish Britannia could see that." Flying Dutchman sighed.

"I think she does." Jones said. "She obviously cares for you a great deal."

"Duty." Flying Dutchman shrugged.

"Really, Long Shadow. I can't see how you can be so blind?!" Jones exclaimed, at long last losing patience.

"I can see it in her eyes, as clear as day that she loves you." He said.

"You really think so?" She asked, unable to keep the hopeful tone out of her voice.

"I know she does." He replied gently. "And I know you love her. You want her to love you back."

"I do love her yes." Flying Dutchman sighed.

"Well then…" Jones gestured towards the anchored ship.

Flying Dutchman raised an eyebrow at him.

"I still don't like you." She said.

"That's fine Dutchman, just fine." Jones shrugged.

Sighing, she sailed over to where her mentor was.

Britannia had her stern to her apprentice and Flying Dutchman wasn't even sure she heard her approach.

As she drew nearer however, the older ship spoke.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" She said to her, her eyes fixed on the setting son.

"I've always thought so." Flying Dutchman replied.

"As the sun sets, another rises." Britannia murmured.

"The circle will always continue. But sometimes I wish I could delay its progress." She sighed.

"So do I." Flying Dutchman agreed.

"It isn't easy to see the things you do." Britannia said.

"Do you ever-do you ever get used to it?" Flying Dutchman asked her.

Britannia shook her head. "No." She replied.

"No amount of time can ever ease the pain. Nor don't you ever wish to dull it. For a ship that cannot feel, is not a ship at all." She said.

Flying Dutchman nodded.

She glanced behind her at Jones.

Her first mate motioned with his hands.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at him, Flying Dutchman turned back to Britannia.

"I can't imagine how hard it must be for you. All the things you've seen. The joys, the horrors… Just know that I'm here for you. I'm not going anywhere either. As long as you need me, I'm here." She said.

Britannia's gaze softened and she gave her apprentice a nuzzle.

"I know, thank you Dutchman." She murmured.

Flying Dutchman, despite being a quarter her mentor's size, scooped Britannia up in a tight hug.

The older ship squeaked in surprise at this but settled nicely into that embrace, leaning against her apprentice.

Flying Dutchman smiled, resting her head over Britannia's decks as she pulled the larger ship closer to her.

"I love you Britannia." She whispered.

She heard Britannia's breath catch before she replied softly "I love you too."

She backed off, facing her apprentice.

"Come on." She said and led the way to her tent.

Pausing just outside the entrance, Flying Dutchman looked back at Jones again.

Her first mate gave her a thumbs up which she returned with a wink before disappearing inside.

Any unnatural sounds heard that night, Jones contributed to the wind but no one could mistake that knowing smile on his face.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 CARIBBEAN SEA SEPTEMBER 1685

Flying Dutchman sailed along at an even pace, keeping a sharp eye out for wrecks.

It was storm season and most shipping in the profitable West Indies stopped.

Any ship that was unlucky enough to get caught there was practically doomed along with her crew.

Flying Dutchman hated her job sometimes.

Finding the bodies of dead sailors strewn about the water wasn't her idea of fun. But someone had to do it.

Someone had to help those poor souls.

"Debris, dead ahead!" came the cry.

Flying Dutchman sighed. If there was one thing she hated more than finding dead bodies, it was the human's gunk.

Fishing nets were some of the worst.

This one looked like it'd been washed overboard in a storm. And what's more, there appeared to be something in it.

Curiosity drove her and she approached albeit cautiously.

There was no guarantee the creature, whatever it was, wouldn't turn on her suddenly.

As she drew closer, Flying Dutchman's crew, every single one of them including Vandecker, backed away.

"It's a giant squid!" Jones breathed in awe.

"Actually it's a cephalopod." Vandecker corrected.

Jones scowled and was going to snap a harsh retort when Flying Dutchman intervened.

"Stow it, the both of you!" She growled.

They sighed and nodded.

She turned her attention back to the poor creature trapped in the netting.

It seemed to be alive, thrashing weakly as it noticed the ship coming towards it.

"It's okay." Flying Dutchman soothed it, unsure if her gift of language had interpreted the creature's speech correctly.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

It seemed to understand and quit struggling.

Flying Dutchman looked it over, admiring its thick muscular hide and its big wide hazel eyes, staring up at her through a mass of tentacles.

Flying Dutchman smiled reassuringly at it as she set to work untangling the net.

Soon it was free and it splashed around joyously before facing Flying Dutchman.

The crew tensed as it gripped her heel.

Flying Dutchman felt herself being pulled under.

Her crew had no time to react.

"Gah!" Flying Dutchman gasped as she vanished below the surface.

The thing pulled her along a short ways before letting go.

The first thing Flying Dutchman noticed was she was floating.

The second thing she noticed was she was sailing. She was actually sailing underwater!

The thing did a twirl of joy in front of her.

"How is this possible?" Flying Dutchman breathed.

_"__It's possible because of your powers." _replied a voice inside her head.

The sound of it appeared to be female and startled, Flying Dutchman looked around widely for the source of it.

Again, she turned her gaze back to the creature, seeing it staring back.

There was curiosity in that gaze as well as something else Flying Dutchman couldn't quite distinguish.

_"__I've never sensed a more unusual ship. You are really something, Flying Dutchman." _It said.

"Who are you?" Flying Dutchman asked.

_"__I have no name but the ones man provides me with. Beast, Leviathan, Kraken." _It replied.

"Such names do not suit you." Flying Dutchman said.

_"__Don't they?" _The creature, the Kraken, mused.

_"__I feast upon human flesh to survive. I track them across trackless seas, finding them in their riggidy open boats. Your kind is so fragile. You break so easily." _She replied.

"Why don't you break me then?" Flying Dutchman asked, half a challenge entering her voice.

_"__As I said, you are different." _The Kraken said. _"The scent of the stars is strong on you. It is such a scent that I have only smelled once, upon another ship years ago." _

"Britannia." Flying Dutchman realized.

At the Kraken's questioning look she explained "She's my mentor. She teaches me the ways of my ancestors, the Ancients."

The Kraken nodded, a simple bob. She understood.

_"__Now you know the extent of your abilities. You can sail above as well as below the water with minimal threat to your crew." _She said.

"Remarkable, absolutely remarkable." Flying Dutchman whispered, in awe of it all.

The Kraken regarded her seriously.

_"__Now there is the matter of releasing me from the net."_ She said.

"Oh, what about it?" Flying Dutchman asked.

_"__You freed me, you saved my life. For that I am in your dead, Flying Dutchman." _The Kraken replied.

"And now I'm guessing you want to follow me?" Flying Dutchman guessed.

_"__That is correct. Wherever you go, I'll go. Whatever your needs are, I will fulfill them. According to the Ancient Laws, you are my master now. I am bound to you and you alone." _The Kraken said.

"I don't know what to say…" Flying Dutchman whispered.

_"__Just accept it." _The Kraken begged.

Flying Dutchman nodded. "I shall then. First things first, I need to keep going in search of other shipwrecks and to do that, I need to surface." She said.

_"__Simply will it to be done." _The Kraken explained.

Flying Dutchman nodded, focusing her will upon the surface waters above.

She seemed to shoot straight up, her bow breaking the surface first. For a few moments, she seemed to hang there, suspended in midair, before coming back down with a loud, resounding splash.

The Kraken's head surfaced beside her. _"Not bad for a first timer." _She said.

"So I've been told." Flying Dutchman agreed with a smile.

_"__Where to master?"_ The Kraken asked.

Flying Dutchman winced. "Let's get something straight here. I am not your master, I don't care what the Ancient Laws say, don't call me that. Call me Dutchman if you must, or Shadow if you want to get personal. But I'm no master."

_"__Very well, I shall do as you ask Dutchman." _The Kraken replied with a dip of her head.

"Thank you." Flying Dutchman murmured.

She set a Southwest course, aiming for San Dominique, a French colony in the West Indies.

As the dark blue waters of the North Atlantic changed to the azure tents of the Caribbean, Flying Dutchman became on high alert.

Pirates and Royal Navy ships alike ran ramped here and while she doubted that either would attack her, she wasn't taking any chances.

She winced as she felt the Kraken's tentacles against her keel.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

_"__Admiring." _came the Kraken's ever stoic reply.

Flying Dutchman snorted, biting back a comment on how the Kraken could "admire" her keel without grabbing onto it.

_"__It seems you have seen love." _The Kraken said.

"Yes." Flying Dutchman sighed. "Britannia is my soul sister."

_"__A very sacred bond. I try not to interfere with it." _The Kraken said. _"Those are the only ships I have sworn never to harm." _

"How can you tell I am bonded?" Flying Dutchman asked.

_"__I am in your mind am I not?" _The Kraken answered. _"The bond of a soul sister gives of a very particular signal within the brain. It is often the first thing I look for in a ship I have chosen to attack. If I find it, I'll leave her alone. The pain of a severed bond is something no ship should ever had to go through." _

"I wouldn't know." Flying Dutchman said.

_"__And I hope you never have to." _The Kraken said and the two fell silent the rest of the voyage.

100 miles off the coast of San Dominique, Flying Dutchman opened her jaws to taste the air.

_"__What do you sense?" _The Kraken asked, knowing what her master was doing.

"There's another ship nearby, a dying one." Flying Dutchman replied and set all sails, racing towards the stricken ship.

It turned out to be a pirate ship.

She was a terrible sight, her mainmast having toppled into the water and her fore and mizzen all shot up.

Flying Dutchman opened her jaws again. The scent of death was all around her but she was merely dying, she wasn't dead yet but she would be.

Silently ordering the Kraken to remain hidden, Flying Dutchman approached the poor ship.

"Pirate, can you hear me?" She asked.

"Ugh, yes…" The ship rasped in reply.

She opened her eyes, raising her head weakly at the sight of Flying Dutchman.

"I suppose my time has come." She murmured.

"Not yet, you have a few minutes." Flying Dutchman replied. "Now tell me what happened."

"I was sailing back to Tortuga. I'd just captured a nice juicy prize. The crew was celebrating." She began.

"Go on." Flying Dutchman encouraged as she seemed to hesitate.

"I came under cannon fire. No explanation, no offer of parley just, just death. Everywhere." She whispered.

"Who did this to you?" Flying Dutchman growled, trying hard to keep the anger out of her voice. She wasn't sure if she succeeded or not.

"R-rogue pirates!" She gasped out as her eyes rolled around in her head.

"One last question." Flying Dutchman said. "What is your name?"

"Misty Lady." The ship rasped out.

Flying Dutchman moved forward, cradling her against her side.

"Fare thee well to the Ancients Misty Lady." She replied.

Misty Lady managed a weak smile before she fell against Flying Dutchman, dead.

Flying Dutchman gulped and gently closed the pirate's eyes.

"Kraken, did you hear that?" She asked her friend.

_"__I don't know what to make of it Shadow." _The Kraken answered.

"Sounds to me like trouble's on its way." Flying Dutchman growled.

_"__If it isn't here already." _Kraken murmured ominously.

Flying Dutchman had to agree.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 THE LOCKER OCTOBER 1685

Flying Dutchman ordered the Kraken to remain in the living world and that she'd call her once she'd returned.

_"__How will I find you?" _The Kraken asked.

"Good question." Flying Dutchman replied. "What we need is a way of signaling each other."

_"__Sound travels far underwater." _The Kraken suggested.

"What noise could I make though?" Flying Dutchman asked.

_"__That wheel on your deck. When the crew drops it, it makes noise." _The Kraken said.

Flying Dutchman eyed her capstan uncertainly. "I dunno." She said. "You think it'll work."

_"__We may as well try it." _The Kraken replied.

The giant octopus as Flying Dutchman had best figured her to be, dove down beneath the surface, sailing away several miles.

_"__Alright, go ahead." _She ordered.

Curious to see whether this would work or not, Flying Dutchman rose her capstan as high as it would go before slamming it down on deck.

She could almost feel the resounding boom it made as shock waves riddled out from her keel.

_"__Oh I can hear that alright." _The Kraken told her a few seconds later. _"There's no mistaking that sound for anything." _

"Well, look for that sound. It might be a while but keep an ear open. That's what I'll use whenever I need your help. In the meantime, you're free to wonder wherever you wish. My only order to you is to keep away from British and Brethren ships. The rest are fair game and if you find those rogue pirates, let me know." Flying Dutchman ordered.

_"__Understood." _The Kraken said and raced off into the depths.

Flying Dutchman meanwhile waited until the sun touched the horizon before she drew strength from the Changing of Celestial Bodies as she'd come to call it.

She released her green flash just as the sun vanished below the waves, finding herself back in the Locker's waters in seconds.

Her deck was full of pirates and Flying Dutchman knew just where to take them.

Tortuga II, or the replica of it, was waiting for her with its pristine harbor and wide open beaches filled with woman and their drunken sailors.

Flying Dutchman was surprised to find that this time, there were other ships around.

One of them, she noticed with a pang of guilt, was Misty Lady.

After she dropped the sailors off, Flying Dutchman made her way over to her.

"So it's you again." Misty Lady said.

"Yeah, it's me." Flying Dutchman sighed.

"Don't worry, I'm happy here." Misty Lady smiled.

"Why aren't you with the Ancients?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"I wasn't ready they said so they gave me a hundred years here." Misty Lady replied.

"Can you tell me anything more of what happened to you?" Flying Dutchman asked.

Misty Lady sighed. "Not really, no. I just knew they were rogue pirates because they flew the red flag. The ships themselves were a flotilla of mostly sloops but I saw one or two brigs as well." She said.

"Sloops then. Okay." Flying Dutchman mused.

"They were from a collection of places. Some were British, some were Spanish or French. One I recognized as part of the Brethren." Misty Lady said.

"Who was it?" Flying Dutchman demanded.

"Carolina." Misty Lady replied. "She was the flagship. I don't know how it happened but I do know that she seemed more frightened than anything else. She wasn't a killer like the rest of them."

"Whoever's controlling her, they'll pay!" Flying Dutchman snarled.

"Just be careful, Dutchman." Misty Lady begged. "If they could kill me, they can most certainly kill you."

"I'll be careful. I know better than to just sail into the middle of their fleet." Flying Dutchman assured her.

Giving her one last nuzzle, she sailed out.

Britannia was at her usual spot when she arrived but something seemed different about the old galleon.

She was restless, tugging at her mooring lines more than usual.

"Alright, what's the problem?" Flying Dutchman sighed.

"Dutchman!" Britannia cried, flinging herself at her apprentice.

"Whoa!" Flying Dutchman laughed as the larger ships' weight bowled her over. She pressed her muzzle to Britannia's shoulder.

"If this is the kind of welcome I get, I should stay away more often." She giggled.

"I was worried when you didn't show up last night." Britannia confessed.

"Come now, it's not like I haven't been late before." Flying Dutchman said. "So what's so different this time?"

Britannia sighed, backing off her apprentice.

Though she'd relaxed considerably, Flying Dutchman could still see a hint of fear behind her eyes.

"What's happened, Britannia?" She asked.

"There's been an outbreak." Britannia replied. "Starting in Liverpool then working its way north. Its minor so far and I hope it'll stay that way but if it finds its way to the major ports, it could spread quite easily."

"I see." Flying Dutchman replied.

"I want you to stay away from England." Britannia growled. "Don't go any closer to land than you have to and if you see a derelict flying the yellow flag, don't go near it."

"Britannia, I can't just ignore my duty…" Flying Dutchman began.

"You will if it hurts you." Britannia growled, fire lighting her eyes.

Flying Dutchman took a step back. She'd never actually seen her mentor this angry before.

Britannia's anger faded as soon as she saw this.

"Come here, Dutchman." She ordered gruffly.

Unsure, Flying Dutchman did, finding herself being pulled into a gentle embrace.

"Understand I'm not trying to be hard on you. I'm just trying to keep you safe." Britannia whispered.

"I know, I know Britannia." Flying Dutchman replied.

"Please do as I ask." She begged.

"I will." Flying Dutchman promised.

Britannia relaxed considerably against her. "Thank you, Dutchman." She murmured.

Flying Dutchman nuzzled her. "Now that you've gotten that out of the way, I think dinner is in order." She said.

"You caught something?" Britannia asked.

Grinning, Flying Dutchman produced two large cod.

"Found them off the coast of Newfoundland." She said.

"Flying Dutchman, I could kiss you right now!" Britannia giggled.

"I wouldn't mind." Flying Dutchman purred causing the older ship to blush.

"So naughty!" She accused.

"I can see you don't mind either." Flying Dutchman said.

Britannia blushed harder. "Oi! You're a no good sneak, Dutchman!" She laughed.

Flying Dutchman smiled as Britannia pressed against her.

"Dinner first, then desert." She said.

"Can't we skip?" Britannia suggested.

"And waste a pair of perfectly good cod?" Flying Dutchman snorted. "Why Britannia, I'm shocked. That's as good as a sin in your book."

"Maybe I'm not hungry." Britannia said.

"That's bull and you know it. You're not fooling me." Flying Dutchman chuckled.

Britannia pouted. "Fine then." She said. "Dinner first."

As she pouted, Flying Dutchman moved up alongside and gave her rudder a nip.

Britannia jumped in surprise. "Thought you said dinner first?" She teased.

"So I did, but desert is just too tempting right now." Flying Dutchman murmured.

Britannia smiled. "I knew I could get you eventually." She said.

"Yes you did. I can't seem to resist that pretty face." Flying Dutchman replied.

Britannia brushed against her. "Save dinner for breakfast." She said.

Flying Dutchman quickly had the cod stored away and followed Britannia inside where she proceeded to give the older ship the sweetest desert she'd ever had.


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 CARIBBEAN SEA JANUARY 1686

Flying Dutchman plodded along under the sweltering heat of the Caribbean sun.

For this time of year, it was unbearably hot and while she could've easily ordered a dive, she wasn't eager to play submarine.

She wasn't that desperate, yet.

On the horizon appeared a set of sails.

Flying Dutchman, on instinct, opened her jaws to taste the air.

The scent of death was palpable but it wasn't nearly as present as it was when she had found Misty Lady.

Curious about this new find, Flying Dutchman drew closer.

The ship, a three masted frigate, sat dead in the water, anchors lowered. Her head was down as she listened to her captain and first mate argue on deck.

She looked up when she saw Flying Dutchman though.

"No please, I'm not ready!" She begged.

Flying Dutchman paused. "I'm not going to take you anywhere. But the scent of death is apparent on you. I am merely curious as to why." She said.

"Stay back!" The ship snarled.

Flying Dutchman paused, surprised at the sudden ferocity of the other ship.

The anger was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by weariness. Bone weariness.

This ship had no strength left to fight.

Flying Dutchman didn't need her special senses to know this ship was nearing the end of her hawser.

The ship looked at her and Flying Dutchman wasn't sure what shocked her the most. The genuine fear there in her eyes, or the desperate tone of her voice.

"Please…" She begged.

Drawing closer, Flying Dutchman could see a bright red rash all along the sides of her hull.

In some places, it produced series of black boils, creating an ugly and obviously itchy and painful pattern.

It didn't take much for Flying Dutchman to figure out what it was.

"The plague, it got you?" She whispered.

The ship nodded fearfully. "Go as far away from this place as you can. Keep well away from the shores and the main trade routes." She growled.

"What about you?" Flying Dutchman asked.

She sighed. "My time will soon come and when it does I will gladly join the Ancients." She replied.

Flying Dutchman nuzzled her. "Then I wish you well, young ship." She whispered.

"Thunder, HMS Thunder." She said.

"Fare thee well, Thunder." Flying Dutchman whispered.

"Thank you Dutchman." Thunder replied.

Flying Dutchman dipped her head and sailed off, unaware that in the short time she spent near her, she'd been exposed to the plague.

With no immunity, it was only a matter of time before she fell ill.

The next few days seemed to get hotter and hotter.

Flying Dutchman could only take so much.

By the third day, around noon, she had had it!

"Ugh, that is it!" She roared and dove beneath the surface.

The water cooler but the warmth remained so she dove deeper.

At nearly 1500 feet one would think there'd be no trace of warmth, but Flying Dutchman still felt one.

"I'm not feeling anything, Dutchman." Vandecker told her. "I don't know what you're feeling but there isn't any water that's colder than this."

Flying Dutchman sighed, unsure whether to believe her captain or not.

Since she couldn't dive any deeper, she leveled out and set sail into the darkness.

The protective lids over her eyes shielded them from the effects of the saltwater and by switching to infrared vision, she had no trouble seeing.

Under ordinary circumstances anyway.

For some reason, despite her best efforts, Flying Dutchman's vision was blurred and the warmth she felt became unbearably hot.

"Ugh!" She moaned.

"Flying Dutchman, what's wrong?" Vandecker asked.

"I don't know, I can't seem to focus…" Flying Dutchman's speech became slurred.

"That's it, I'm surfacing." Vandecker growled and gave the order.

Flying Dutchman rose up to the surface though it did little to relieve her dizziness.

"Dutchman, talk to me." Vandecker begged.

"I don't know what's wrong." Flying Dutchman replied before breaking into a severe coughing fit.

"Easy, easy now." Vandecker murmured, stroking her side. "It's almost sundown. Come on, we'll go back to the Locker and hope Britannia's there to help."

Flying Dutchman nodded her agreement, using the last of her energy to summon the green blast.

Britannia was a bit surprised to see Flying Dutchman.

"You're back early." She said, then stopped when she noticed the state of her apprentice.

"What happened?" She demanded, racing over and fussing over her.

"I don't know. I'm having a hard time focusing on anything at the moment. My head feels like a thousand needles are poking into it." Flying Dutchman groaned.

"You haven't been drinking again, have you?" Britannia asked.

"No." Flying Dutchman replied.

Britannia felt her.

"Hm, well you're a bit warm." She said. "Come inside, I'll see what I can do."

Flying Dutchman nodded, leaning heavily on her mentor as Britannia led the way.

Once inside, Britannia rummaged through a few things before she found what she was looking for.

"Now hold still!" She ordered, holding some kind of rudimentary thermometer.

Flying Dutchman nodded.

Britannia stuck it under her tongue and while it was reading the fluyt's temperature, she went about checking Flying Dutchman all over.

"Anything unusual. Dizzy spells, fever?" Britannia asked.

"Nothing until just now." Flying Dutchman replied.

"Hmm…" Britannia's eyes narrowed, then widened as they fell on a patch of Flying Dutchman's hull.

The gold had turned an angry red as a sort of rash spread its way up and down her hull.

"How long have you had this?" Britannia whispered.

"Had what?" Flying Dutchman asked, turning her head to look.

Britannia nudged her fiercely. "No, don't look. Don't touch!" She growled.

Flying Dutchman was overwhelmed by a strange sense of fear, fear that wasn't hers.

"Britannia, what is it? What has you so scared?" Flying Dutchman asked though by the quaver in her voice it was clear she already knew.

"Dutchman, you have the plague." Britannia whispered.


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 THE LOCKER NOVEMBER 1686

Britannia winced at the sound of her apprentice's cough.

The past few weeks, Flying Dutchman had only gotten weaker as the plague virus tore its way through her body.

She had no way of fighting it. No antibodies in her blood to capture the virus and eliminate it.

Most of her days were spent at Flying Dutchman's berth, doing what she could to ease her pain.

Flying Dutchman lacked the strength to clamp down on her end of the bond so Britannia knew just what her apprentice and soul sister was going through.

She could feel everything that she felt. Know everything she knew. A bond could be both a blessing and a curse this way.

Right now Britannia believed it more of a curse.

Every swelling boil, every rash, every aching bone, Britannia could feel on her own body.

She did what she could to lessen its effect by clamping down on her end of the bond so a majority of the feelings Flying Dutchman sent her way didn't get through.

Looking at her apprentice now, Britannia couldn't stop the worry that bubbled within her.

Flying Dutchman was the only ship she had. The only one she was close to. If she lost her…

Flying Dutchman coughed again, an awful hacking sound which only went to show how her lungs suffered.

"Britannia…" She croaked.

Britannia was at her side in an instant. "I'm here, what is it." She replied, brushing her nose against her side.

"Don't be afraid." Flying Dutchman begged her.

Britannia froze. The bond went both ways. Just as Britannia could feel Flying Dutchman's aches and pains, so Flying Dutchman could feel Britannia's frayed emotions.

"I'm trying not to be." Britannia replied. Desperately hoping to somehow reassure her.

"I know you're frightened. I understand why but please, I don't want you to be." Flying Dutchman begged.

"Should the worst happen…" Britannia cut her off there.

"Don't say that." She whispered.

Flying Dutchman glared and she fell silent.

"Should the worst happen," she began again. "I will be in eternal paradise. What is there to be afraid of?"

"Losing you." Britannia replied, blinking back her tears.

Flying Dutchman smiled at her.

"No." She said gently. "Never lose me. I'm always here." She touched her nose gently to Britannia's side.

The tears found their way from Britannia's eyes before she could stop them.

"Please, hold on…" She begged her, her voice breaking.

Flying Dutchman smiled. "Like I would dream of letting go." She replied.

Britannia cradled her against her side, kissing the top of her head.

Humming a lullaby, she rocked her apprentice to sleep.

Flying Dutchman began throwing up a black tarlike substance starting early the next morning.

She'd nudged Britannia harshly first thing.

"Hmm, wha?" Britannia muttered, raising her head off her apprentice.

"Britannia, move please." Flying Dutchman begged.

"Why, what's wrong?" Britannia asked.

Her apprentice didn't answer, she just raced off around the corner.

Moments later, an awful retching sound was heard.

Britannia closed her eyes and sighed. Puking was the next phase that the virus took.

One a sufficient number of the correct antibodies were produced in the blood, the body went about attempting to eliminate the virus.

This stage was usually the most dangerous. Most ended up dying of dehydration rather than the actual virus itself.

Flying Dutchman came back a few minutes later, struggling to keep an even keel. Her equilibrium was off, her high fever throwing her off balance.

Britannia raced forward, offering her side for support.

Flying Dutchman sent her a grateful glance, too weak to use words.

This only worried Britannia more and she remained by her apprentice's side for the rest of the day, not once leaving her to eat or drink herself.

Flying Dutchman noticed this and while it worried her, she wasn't going to try and call Britannia on it. The old ship was just too stubborn to listen when she was in this state.

Britannia watched as her apprentice turned a nasty shade of green for the fourth time that day.

Sighing, she placed a bucket in front of Flying Dutchman and supporting her head, helped her to throw up into it.

Flying Dutchman spent several minutes throwing up before she deemed herself done for the time being and rested her head back down on the dock, gazing up at Britannia with grateful green eyes.

"Now you just rest. No sense in wearing yourself out now." Britannia encouraged.

"T-take your own advice, Britannia." Flying Dutchman rasped.

"Hmm?" Britannia questioned.

"I haven't once seen you eat a scrap of food. You can't care for me if you just end up running yourself down." Flying Dutchman replied.

Britannia sighed. "I'm just worried for you is all." She replied.

"I know, but please try not to be." Flying Dutchman begged. "When you get worried you forget to take care of yourself."

"You're my first priority." Britannia answered.

"A flattering thought surely." Flying Dutchman chuckled. "But not at the cost of your own health."

Britannia shifted her weight against the edge of the berth, still uncertain.

"Britannia, please?" Flying Dutchman begged.

Britannia sighed, knowing she couldn't win this argument.

"Very well. I'll be right back." She promised.

"I know you will." Flying Dutchman replied.

They shared a brief nuzzle before Britannia sailed out in search of food.

Flying Dutchman was right to get on Britannia when she did. It'd been a full day since she'd eaten last and already, Britannia was feeling a bit weak.

A ship her size required a constant source of calories to keep her going.

Her blue eyes narrowed as she scanned the horizon for any food source.

A group of spouts told her what she needed to know.

There was a pod of whales a few miles from her position and Britannia quickly fell into a parallel course, drawing slightly ahead after a time once she'd established their direction of travel.

"Come to mamma." She whispered as they approached.

She crouched down in order to make herself less visible on the surface and when one whale swam close enough she snatched it in her jaws, quickly biting down on its spinal column.

It was a medium sized female humpback whale. In Britain, one would make a lot of money off a catch like this. Ambergris was always a valuable resource, in more ways than one.

Britannia carried her catch back to Flying Dutchman, who marveled at the size of it.

"You're really that hungry?" She asked.

"No, but we can always share." Britannia replied.

"Thanks but I'd just throw it up again." Flying Dutchman replied.

Britannia sighed. "I know." She said, nuzzling her gently.

Flying Dutchman purred, then stiffened.

Sighing, Britannia helped to lift her head as Flying Dutchman threw up again. This time lasted longer than most, about 10 full minutes.

The young fluyt was left gasping for air in between heaves.

"Easy now, easy." Britannia whispered, rubbing her muzzle against Flying Dutchman's side in an effort to help her breathe better.

Her worry grew with each heave her apprentice made. Flying Dutchman was weakening. So far, she'd had the strength of a youth to help her along but even that had its limit.

Britannia could only hope her will was strong enough to pull through this alive.

When through, Flying Dutchman raised her head to look at her mentor. When she found Britannia's gaze was turned away from her, either out of shame or fear, she grew angry.

"Look at me!" She growled. When Britannia didn't answer, Flying Dutchman's temper reached boiling point.

"HMS BRITANNIA!" She growled.

Britannia's head snapped around to stare at her apprentice, surprise and shock evident in her features.

"I know how I must look to you, absolutely pathetic in my feverish, puking state but please, control your emotions. When you're afraid, I'm afraid. More for you than anything." Flying Dutchman said.

"I'm sorry." Britannia said. She was sorry to have caused her apprentice any more issues to deal with.

"You know as well as I that if I do die, I'll join the Ancients. I'll be in paradise. Do you really think that's bad?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"No, but I just-I can't lose you…" Britannia whispered.

Images flooded her mind before she could stop them. Memories of ships who suffered from a broken bond. Most went insane and tried to kill themselves. Others were too afraid to live and too afraid to die and so lived out the rest of their lives in misery.

These very same images found their way over the bond and suddenly Flying Dutchman understood the truth behind Britannia's fears.

She wasn't afraid for her. She was afraid for herself. A selfish fear but an understandable one, if Flying Dutchman read these memories correctly.

She sent back waves of reassurance along their mental link, trying to convince her that such things would never happen. Not to her. She was too strong for that. She would go on.

Britannia persisted though, showing her apprentice a few locked away memories of her after she had lost her task force during the war.

She'd tried to drown herself in the bottle and had turned to any means she could to try and cope with her loss.

_"__What if I go back there again?" _She thought. _"It was so dark, and frightening…" _

_"__You're stronger than that, Britannia. You're better than that." _Flying Dutchman assured her. _"That won't happen to you again and if you try it, I will stop you." _

Britannia smiled at the determined tone in her apprentice's mental voice. Flying Dutchman hadn't lost her fighting spirit in the slightest.

"Even if I do die, I'm always with you." Flying Dutchman whispered.

"I know, thank you Dutchman." Britannia replied, resting her bow against her side.

That night, as Flying Dutchman slept, Britannia kept a close eye on her.

But it wasn't fear that drove her on now, it was love.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 THE LOCKER NOVEMBER 1686

As Flying Dutchman rested, Britannia turned her attention to the whale she had caught earlier.

The first order of business was cutting into the meat and separating the guts from the rest of it.

Britannia never did like to eat her whales' whole like other ships did. She'd gotten more used to the "civilized" way of doing things.

Using a knife, she cut gingerly into the whales flesh. She'd already set up a refinery to take any oil she found and turn it into a useable product.

Dawn was fast approaching by the time Britannia had finished collecting the oil.

In her berth nearby, Flying Dutchman began to stir.

Britannia quickly cleaned up, leaving the cleaned and gutted whale carcass on the dock and joined her apprentice in her berth.

"Sleep well?" She asked as she saw Flying Dutchman's eyes flicker open.

"Like a baby." Flying Dutchman replied with a grin.

Britannia felt her and sighed. "Still a high fever." She said.

"My head's not as clouded though." Flying Dutchman said.

"That's good to hear." Britannia sighed in relief.

She straightened up. "Think you can keep breakfast down?" She asked.

Flying Dutchman nodded. "I am a bit hungry." She said.

Britannia brightened at that and sailed over to the whale carcass. Gripping it in her teeth, she lifted it off the dock and started back towards Flying Dutchman.

As she did so, a wave of nausea passed over her and she stumbled.

"You alright, Britannia?" Flying Dutchman asked, concerned.

Unable to speak due to the whale, Britannia merely nodded and continued on.

Setting the whale down in front of Flying Dutchman, she watched her apprentice sniff it experimentally.

"Not a bad catch." She said. "Is this the same whale you caught yesterday?" She asked.

Britannia nodded. "Yes." She replied.

"You mean to say, you haven't eaten in almost 3 days now?" Flying Dutchman growled.

"I've gone far longer without food." Britannia retorted.

"Doesn't mean it's good for you." Flying Dutchman growled.

Britannia sighed, knowing she couldn't win. "I know, I know…" She groaned, leaning against the dock.

Flying Dutchman nudged the whale towards her.

"I'm not having a single bite until you have your fill." She growled.

Britannia narrowed her eyes. "Dutchman…" She began.

"No, Britannia. This time, you're going to do what I say." Flying Dutchman growled.

Britannia rolled her eyes and came forward, nipping into the whale's flesh experimentally.

Taking a few large bites out of the tale section, she backed off hoping that just eating would appease her apprentice. Flying Dutchman needed the meat more than she did.

Her apprentice wasn't fooled.

"Really Britannia, you're going to stoop that low and try that trick on me?!" Flying Dutchman asked.

"It was worth a try." Britannia replied. "You got what you wanted. I ate, now it's your turn."

"You do realize the second I touch this it's no good to you right?" Flying Dutchman said.

"I'm willing to take my chances." Britannia shrugged. "Britannia!" "Alright, alright!" The older ship huffed.

She went back to eating the succulent meat on the tail, surprised at how hungry she was.

Knowing that Flying Dutchman liked the ribs the best, she left that area alone.

Finishing off her portion, Britannia backed off again.

This time, Flying Dutchman was satisfied with what she saw and dug into the rib portion of the whale.

She had a few large bites before she backed off. "That's enough for me for now." She sighed.

Britannia nodded. "Don't push yourself." She said.

"I won't." Flying Dutchman promised, turning her head to bite at some of the boils on her side.

Britannia smacked her.

"Ouch! What was that for?!" Flying Dutchman cried indignantly.

"Don't scratch them! I know they itch but that'll only make them worse." Britannia growled.

Flying Dutchman huffed, resting her head down on the dock.

Britannia pressed her muzzle to her side.

"Come on now, don't be mad." She begged.

Flying Dutchman ignored her.

"Dutchman, come on." Britannia begged her, nibbling playfully at the base of her mainmast.

"You're really pushing it Britannia." Flying Dutchman said.

"Am I?" Britannia smirked, moving aft to place a light bite on her taftrail.

This time Flying Dutchman reacted, giving Britannia a swift bite to her mainmast.

Her action caught the older ships attention.

"You asked for it." She growled and lunged, bowling Britannia over and pinning her underneath her.

"You know how to start trouble." She said.

"It's a gift." Britannia grinned, nuzzling her.

Flying Dutchman returned the gesture, purring eagerly.

Britannia gazed up at her with wide blue eyes.

She brushed her snout along Flying Dutchman's side, feeling the soft boils wilt under the pressure.

"Most of these are ready to be drained." She said. "Would you allow me?"

Flying Dutchman nodded and remained still atop her mentor as Britannia gently nicked the fragile skin open, allowing the black fluid to drain out, running down her hull.

Flying Dutchman shuddered under her touch.

"It's okay." Britannia assured her, not pausing in her work.

She shifted her attention to Flying Dutchman's other side quickly breaking open all the boils there.

"Now go and take a dive, rinse those out." Britannia ordered.

Flying Dutchman nodded and staggered off her, racing away a short distance before vanishing below the surface.

As Britannia waited for her to come up again, she leaned against the edge of the berth, sighing tiredly.

Times like these really made her feel her age to a degree and she supposed going from no food to a lot of food wasn't helping either.

Feeling a second wave of nausea coming over her, Britannia shook her head in an effort to clear it.

With Flying Dutchman already down with illness, she could not afford to fall ill as well.

She hadn't rested well if at all these past few days either.

For the time being, Flying Dutchman seemed to be on the mend which allowed Britannia to relax just enough, to let her weariness seep in.

When Flying Dutchman surfaced a few minutes later, she looked around for her mentor.

She found her lying against the dock at their shared berth, fast asleep.

_"__Finally let yourself relax, you poor old thing." _Flying Dutchman thought fondly.

She curled up beside her mentor.

"Sleep well, Britannia." She whispered in her ear.

Britannia would later say that was the best sleep she'd had in years.


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 CARIBBEAN DECEMBER 1689

_"__I'm hungry." _The Kraken said.

"You're always hungry." Flying Dutchman sighed.

They were sailing off the coast of Hispaniola. While Flying Dutchman was supposed to be keeping an eye out for shipwrecks, she had other things on her mind.

As Christmas approached, Flying Dutchman grew ever more into a state of panic.

She had remembered the Christmas tree, she had remembered the lights, she had remembered the traditional dinner even but she had forgot, and she couldn't believe herself for this. She had forgotten Britannia's present!

"Of all the stupid, foolish things to do…" She hissed to herself as she sailed along.

_"__Sounds to me like you need a hand." _

Flying Dutchman groaned. "And how could you help might I ask Kraken?" She asked.

_"__I'd be willing to if you'd just give me a chance." _The Kraken replied.

"Oh alright." Flying Dutchman sighed. "Sorry for being snippy."

_"__It's understandable. What you did, rather what you didn't do is sort of embarrassing." _The Kraken replied. She sounded amused which only made Flying Dutchman madder.

"Are you laughing at me?" She asked.

_"__Why wouldn't I?" _The Kraken replied. _"I do find this little fact amusing." _

"You find it amusing that I forgot one of the most important things for Christmas!" Flying Dutchman growled.

_"__For someone who doesn't celebrate it you sure seem to be beating down hard on yourself." _The Kraken said.

True, she didn't celebrate Christmas at least not in the same way the humans did.

For them, Christmas meant the birth of their savior, Jesus Christ which is where the word Christmas came from.

For ships, they celebrated a different holiday. They called it Inlustris which meant Starlight for December 25 was the day the Ancients signed their pact with the mortal ships.

The pact signified the union between the mortal and the immortal, the joining of worlds.

There was only one ship still alive today that had witnessed this pact and she was Flying Dutchman's mentor.

If Flying Dutchman didn't find a present soon, she'd resort to hiding under the sea for all eternity out of pure embarrassment.

As much as she hated to say it, the Kraken was right. She needed help and she was desperate enough to get it.

"Any suggestions." She asked to the Kraken.

_"__Maybe try finding something she likes." _The Kraken replied.

"That doesn't narrow it down much." Flying Dutchman said.

_"__Can you think of anything that she might really like?" _The Kraken asked.

"Well she does enjoy art a lot." Flying Dutchman replied.

_"__Like what kind of art?" _The Kraken asked, unable to keep the curiosity from her voice.

"Well I know she likes to paint." Flying Dutchman replied. "She's got a lot of unfinished paintings in her tent. I think she's run out of supplies and hasn't found the time to get more."

_"__So, then let's get some paints." _The Kraken replied.

"Do you have any idea how much an average set is worth?" Flying Dutchman asked.

_"__I have some idea, yes. They're not cheap." _The Kraken answered.

Flying Dutchman thought for a moment. There was no way she could afford to pay the price a painting kit would cost in London nowadays. But there might be a way she could make the money required.

It was something she'd sworn herself not to ever turn to but in this case, she'd make the exception.

_"__You're planning something, I can tell." _The Kraken said.

"You still hungry?" She asked the Kraken.

_"__I'm always hungry." _The Kraken replied. _"What'd you have in mind?" _

"A juicy French merchant ship, laden with gold." Flying Dutchman replied, licking her lips.

_"__Now you're speaking my language!" _The Kraken squealed in delight.

Laughing, Flying Dutchman set the pace north towards the shipping lanes.

There were always ships about, regardless of time.

The West Indies held boast to the busiest shipping lanes in the world and the most common transistors, merchant ships either laden with supplies from Europe or ships loaded with coins, silks, and fine linens from the islands.

Knowing her chances would increase if she moved farther east into open waters, Flying Dutchman sailed into the Atlantic, dropping anchor in the center of a trade route known as the Triangle.

This trade route spanned the entire Atlantic Ocean from the port of Newport, Rhode Island in the British Colonies, to Canary Islands off the North African continent.

There were two main trade routes. A ship sailing from Europe would carry textile goods to Africa, then pick up slaves at auction and carry them to the West Indies or the Colonies, whichever had ordered them, then returned to Europe carrying sugar, tobacco, and/or cotton.

The second consisted of mostly the same materials but took a slightly different route. A ship sailing from the Caribbean took sugar to the Colonies, and then crossed the Atlantic with a hold full of rum and goods to Africa before returning to the Caribbean with slaves.

Flying Dutchman never thought much of the slave trade. She knew Britannia didn't agree with it, but accepted it on the grounds of economic welfare.

It was a very profitable industry, there was no argument there and while Flying Dutchman preferred to stay out of politics, even she couldn't deny its importance to the British Empire.

Flying Dutchman spotted sails on the horizon. As the ship drew closer, the wind changed direction and the fluyt almost gagged.

There was no mistaking that stench.

"Ugh, a slaver!" She groaned.

_"__Ick!" _The Kraken agreed in her head.

"Nasty things those." Flying Dutchman sniffed.

_"__Agreed. Though highly profitable too I might add." _The Kraken said.

"To the people owning them, yes." Flying Dutchman said. "Free labor, what's better from a business standpoint."

She could feel the Kraken's hesitation. "Alright, what is it?" She sighed.

_"__I do not wish to step outside my boundaries but, am I your slave?" _The Kraken asked.

"You know I do not see you as such." Flying Dutchman replied.

_"__But am I? Answer me truly, Dutchman? Am I your slave or not?" _The Kraken asked.

Flying Dutchman sighed. She'd never viewed the Kraken as her slave or her servant but then again, no matter how much freedom she gave her, she was still bound.

"I suppose technically yes." Flying Dutchman replied. "But know that you're lucky compared to others. Most would never have as much freedom as you do."

_"__I am aware and am grateful for it." _The Kraken said. _"I do not mind, being a slave. But I had to know for certain." _

"I understand." Flying Dutchman replied gently.

The Kraken fell silent and she turned her attention back to the shipping lanes ahead.

Around noon, Flying Dutchman spotted a large Indiaman on the horizon. She was heavily laden with cargo judging by how deep she sat in the water but that didn't affect her speed much, if at all.

This ship was a fast one for sure and there was something familiar about her. When she'd first appeared over the horizon, Flying Dutchman had thought her to be a mirror image of herself but there were key subtle differences.

This new ship wasn't built to run against the wind like Flying Dutchman was. She also lacked the chase cannons that she had on her bow.

Watching her, the fluyt/Indiaman crossbreed deduced two things.

1\. The new ship had the weather gage and

2\. She was running faster with the wind than Flying Dutchman could hope to.

"Well that's just great." Flying Dutchman groused.

_"__You could always surprise her." _The Kraken suggested.

"No funny business. I'll toss you a few rowdy crewmen if they misbehave." Flying Dutchman said.

_"__I guess I'll just wait here then." _The Kraken replied, sounding a little sullen but agreeable.

Flying Dutchman sailed on, falling in behind the newcomer before diving.

Under the water, she was able to sail much faster than she ever could on the surface. All she needed to do now, was time her approach properly and surface alongside with guns run out. The sight of that should be enough to scare the other ship into submission.

Flying Dutchman carefully drew up alongside the other ship, moving slightly ahead to account for the time it would take for her to surface before slowing and matching her speed.

Then she shot straight up, rolling out her guns as she did so.

The Jolly Rodger flew up her mast. No sense in them guessing who she was.

Instead of surrendering at the sight of her, the other ship merely looked annoyed and bit her nose hard.

Flying Dutchman lost her temper then and lunged, bowling the other ship over.

The two proceeded to roll on the water in a good old fashioned catfight before Flying Dutchman got the other hand and pinned her down.

"Give in?" She snarled, her teeth just inches from the other ship's throat.

"Alright, I'll talk." She panted. "Damn, you're one mean bitch!"

"Comes with practice." Flying Dutchman grinned and backed off her.

She remembered her courtesies and helped the merchant find her keel.

The other ship shot her a grateful glance.

"What do you want?" She asked.

"Oh just whatever valuables you have on board." Flying Dutchman replied. "But since I'm feeling generous today, I'll leave you with half. Can't have you going into Port Royal on an empty hold now can I?"

The merchant narrowed her eyes. "You seem very familiar with my route. Who are you?" She asked.

"A pirate. Who are you?" Flying Dutchman countered.

The ship held herself proudly. "HMS Wicked Wench." She replied.

"British?" Flying Dutchman guessed. This ship certainly didn't sound like it. Flying Dutchman recognized the distinct Dutch accent.

"Well duh!" Wicked Wench snorted. "How many other nations use HMS as a prefix?"

"Good point." Flying Dutchman conceded.

"But if you're asking if I think you are then I was originally from Amsterdam." Wicked Wench added.

"So was I!" Flying Dutchman exclaimed before she could stop herself.

"When?" Wicked Wench asked.

"I was launched in 1670, and was captured on my maiden voyage." Flying Dutchman replied.

"1675." Wicked Wench said. "I too was captured 2 years later by the Brits during the last Anglo-Dutch war."

Flying Dutchman nodded. "I guessed as much." She said.

Wicked Wench shrugged and tied off to her. "Well if you're going to take half my stores I suggest you get to it before a warship shows up." She said.

"You know of any in this area?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"Aye, one. Her name's Sentinel. Stubborn bitch if you ask me. She's been hounding me since I left Calibar." Wicked Wench grumbled.

"Did you do something wrong?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"Hardly." She sniffed. "I just come across as a tinsy bit rebellious."

Flying Dutchman snickered. "I know the type." She said.

"You two huh?" Wicked Wench asked.

"Never could resist pestering authority when I could. Particularly British authority." Flying Dutchman replied.

"You and me are of the same mindset then." Wicked Wench grunted. "My flag might be changed but never my heart. I still hate the English and that won't change."

"I imagine not." Flying Dutchman chuckled with a grin.

She finished taking on the stores. "Well, I got what I came here for. It was nice meeting you HMS Wicked Wench." She said.

"Please, just Wench and I never did catch your name." Wicked Wench replied.

"If we do meet again, under more favorable circumstances, I just might tell you it." Flying Dutchman replied with a grin.

"Aw, that's not fair!" Wicked Wench complained.

Flying Dutchman merely laughed and sailed away.

"Hmph, pirates!" Wicked Wench grumbled to herself and continued on.

Flying Dutchman, triumphant, sailed due east towards the British mainland.

She sailed up the Thames a week later, having sailed underwater the whole way.

Several ships gave her curious glances but she ignored them, pulling up at the pier just past the bridge.

One of the dock handlers stared up at her surprised.

"Haven't seen you around here before lass." He said.

"I'm new." Flying Dutchman shrugged. "If you'd be so kind as to direct me to where I can offload my cargo." She said.

"East India?" He asked.

She shook her head. "Privateer." She replied.

"Ah, well you've come to the right place." He said. "What have you got?"

"Spices, silks, linens. Nabbed them off a pretty little galleon headed for San Dominique. I was feeling generous so I bargained for half the cargo. Poor thing looked abused enough already and I didn't want to add to it. But I took all the gold coin." Flying Dutchman explained.

A pair of inspectors came on board to check. "Not a bad catch." They said. "But half cargo means half price."

"Doesn't pay to be generous." She sighed. "I won't be as such again."

"You're new so I'll let this one slide but don't make a mistake like that again." The man growled. "If you have the opportunity to take the whole cargo then take it."

"So I shall." Flying Dutchman agreed though she had no intentions of going back to piracy again.

"May I see your Letters of Marque please." The man asked kindly. The letters signified if you were a privateer in the employ of the government.

They were the only thing that separated a privateer from a pirate.

Flying Dutchman was worried that Captain Vandecker's faked Letters of Marque wouldn't pass the inspection but they held up.

"All seems good." The man said. He turned his attention to the coins which all had the likeness of Queen Elizabeth on them.

"These are British." He said.

"The galleon I nabbed them from had them. She must've captured them herself." Flying Dutchman lied quickly.

"Damn frogs! Trying to steal our money!" The man hissed.

Flying Dutchman shrugged, letting him rant for several minutes before he carried on with business.

Flying Dutchman received a hefty £12,000 for her work.

"Now it's time to spend it." She said.

Restocking on provisions first, Flying Dutchman then turned her sights back into the channel where she sailed a few miles to Liverpool.

She knew of a good paint shop there. Nearing the coast, she spotted Britannia.

Deciding to play with her mentor a bit she dove beneath the waters and sailed up underneath Britannia's keel, brushing the tips of her masts gently against her.

Britannia halted, tensing at once. "Who goes there?!" She snarled.

"Relax!" Flying Dutchman smirked, poking her head above the surface.

"Dutchman, what are you doing here?" Britannia asked.

"Aw, come on, is that how you're gonna greet me?" Flying Dutchman pouted.

Seeing that her apprentice wasn't going to give her a straight answer, Britannia sighed and nuzzled her.

"Just stay out of trouble alright." She asked.

Flying Dutchman pulled her best innocent face. "Me, trouble? Pah!" She laughed and broke the surface completely, showering Britannia in water.

As the older ship shook herself unappreciatively, Flying Dutchman smirked. "Oops, did I mean to do that?" She asked.

Britannia nipped her playfully. "Oh get on you!" She laughed.

"Thanks, Britannia." Flying Dutchman smiled.

"I expect you home by sunrise though." Britannia said.

"I will be." Flying Dutchman promised and raced off.

Shaking her head in amusement, Britannia continued on her way.

Flying Dutchman raced along, quite eager to get into Liverpool and find Britannia's present.

Pulling up at the pier opposite of the shop, she waited impatiently while Vandecker when inside the store to purchase the paints.

After what seemed like eternity but was really only a few minutes, Vandecker reemerged.

"Got them at a bargain price too." He said as he climbed back aboard. "As soon as I mentioned Britannia he cut the price in fourths."

"Very patriotic man it seems." Flying Dutchman smiled and losing her mooring lines she raced off to the open sea.

The sun was beginning to set and Flying Dutchman drew on its strength to aid her in her journey once more.

The green blast could be seen from the shores of Britain. People stared in awe and wonder as it engulfed the fluyt and she vanished from their sight.

From then on there were murmurings, whispers of this new divine ship. Some said she was an enemy, others said she was their friend. But it wouldn't be until 1698 that the truth would come out.

Flying Dutchman took a moment to clear her senses of the fog that clouded her momentarily after her trip through the portal before sailing off in search of Britannia.

The older ship seemed to be resting comfortably when Flying Dutchman, getting another naughty idea, snuck up alongside her and yelled "Boo!" at the top of her lungs.

She backed off a second later though, a rigging line holding her bloodied nose. Beside her, Britannia panted.

"Don't do that again!" She hissed, her eyes wild.

"I won't." Flying Dutchman agreed.

"I didn't hurt you did I?" Britannia asked.

"No I'm fine." Flying Dutchman replied but it came out so garbled that all Britannia could hear was "N', Ibfeen."

She sighed. "Come here." She ordered.

Flying Dutchman hesitated, knowing what her mentor was about to do. "You sure?" She asked.

Britannia nodded. "Though you asked for it, I did give it to you so it's my job to take it." She said.

Sighing, Flying Dutchman relented and allowed Britannia to heal her.

Though the effort was enough to make her go back to sleep for the next few hours, she was up and awake right after.

"Are you going to tell me what you were doing in British waters, Flying Dutchman?" Britannia asked.

"You make it sound as though I'm a threat." Flying Dutchman replied.

"I know you're not but I am curious." Britannia said.

"That's for me to know, and you to find out." Flying Dutchman said with a smirk.

Britannia rubbed her hull against hers. "You know I can persuade you." She said.

"Not gonna work Britannia though I wouldn't mind the effort." Flying Dutchman replied, nuzzling her.

Britannia chuckled. "Well alright, as long as I get to know eventually." She said.

"You will." Flying Dutchman promised and kissed her.

A few days later it was Inlustris and Flying Dutchman woke early. Carefully, so as not to wake Britannia, she slipped quietly out of their tent and into the open air.

Closing her eyes and taking a moment to breathe it in appreciatively, Flying Dutchman set her sights on the Christmas tree set up on the dock nearby.

Flying Dutchman and Britannia had spent time in between their voyages to decorate the tree with a variety or ordainments. Most were collected from Britannia's many years at sea, sculpted by her very hand.

Flying Dutchman was careful to treat these ones with the utmost respect and reverence. To her, they were as precious as Britannia herself.

Quickly wrapping her own present and placing it gently under the tree, she sailed to Britannia and nudged her.

"Britannia." She murmured.

"Mmm…" Was the sleepy ships response.

"Wake up sleepybow its Inlustris." Flying Dutchman said.

"So it is." Britannia agreed with a huge yawn and opened her eyes. Flying Dutchman gave her time to stretch first before insisting that she come along.

"Now what is so exciting that you have to drag me to see it?" Britannia asked her.

Flying Dutchman had blindfolded Britannia and was guiding her along. The older ship attempted to shake the blindfold but Flying Dutchman scolded her. "Ah, ah, no peaking!" She chided.

Britannia huffed but did as she was told. Flying Dutchman halted in front of the tree and removed the blindfold. "Alright you can see now." She said.

Britannia opened her eyes and gasped. "Dutchman, it's-it's beautiful…" She breathed.

Flying Dutchman had used the remainder of her money for a wide assortment of candles that gave off a different radiant of light when they burned, also adding a distinctive sent to the tree.

"Did you do this this morning?" Britannia asked her.

Flying Dutchman nodded. "I wanted to surprise you." She replied.

"Well you've succeeded." Britannia said. "I love it, thank you Dutchman."

"That's not all, I got something for you." Flying Dutchman said.

"Did you really?" Britannia asked. "Or are you just pulling my rudder again?"

"Hey, that was actually really funny!" Flying Dutchman laughed, knowing what Britannia was speaking of.

"I didn't think it was." Britannia pouted.

Flying Dutchman shrugged. "Was worth it though." She replied.

Britannia nudged her. "Oh shut up you and get me my present." She said with mock authority.

Flying Dutchman grinned and gave her a mock salute. "Yes ma'am." She replied.

She picked up the package gingerly in her teeth and carried it over to Britannia, setting it down in front of her.

"Be careful with it. It's fragile." She said.

Britannia nodded and turning her head to the side, produced her own little wrapped package.

"It isn't much but it was the best I could do." She said, handing it to Flying Dutchman.

Her apprentice nodded. "You first." She said.

"No, you first!" Britannia replied.

Flying Dutchman shrugged. "Alright." She agreed and gently tore into the paper.

Inside was a wooden sculpted wolf howling under a full moon with tall pine trees clearly visible.

"How did… Britannia this is incredible." She whispered.

"Ah, I'm not that good." Britannia ducked her head shyly.

"Damn it Britannia why do you always downplay the fact. You are an amazing artist!" Flying Dutchman insisted.

Britannia just blushed, a soft giggle escaping her.

"It's beautiful, thank you." Flying Dutchman whispered, licking her behind the ear.

Britannia smiled, nuzzling her.

"Now it's your turn." Flying Dutchman said, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Well since you seem so eager I may as well not keep you waiting." Britannia smirked and very carefully tore off the paper.

The box inside was rectangular, made of live oak from the Colonies and finished red. Good was laced into the latch and hinges as well as the writing on the top.

"Read it." Flying Dutchman said.

Britannia did. In gold letters red her name. H.M.S. Britannia.

"When did you…" She whispered.

"That same day." Flying Dutchman replied. "I sent word when I was in London."

"What's inside?" Britannia asked.

"Open it and find out." Flying Dutchman answered with a warm smile.

Britannia did and gasped in surprise. There inside, were 24 top class oil paints complete with brushes.

"How did you know…." Britannia whispered, barely able to speak through the emotion that flooded her.

"All those paintings that lay unfinished. Well, I thought they could use a little love." Flying Dutchman replied.

Being very gentle, Britannia closed the box and placed it on the dock. She leaned against the pier, trying to get a lid on her emotions.

"I always wanted to finish those paintings." She said at last. "But I never thought I'd get around to it."

"Well now you can." Flying Dutchman said.

Britannia nuzzled her fiercely. Her voice cracking under her emotion she whispered "Thank you Dutchman."

Flying Dutchman was a bit surprised at the sudden flood of tears against her hull.

She nudged Britannia gently but questioningly.

"What's the matter?" She asked. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Britannia replied, her voice thick with joyful sorrow. "I'm happier than I have been in years." She held her apprentice tight. "I love you Long Shadow."

Flying Dutchman purred. It was the first time since she'd been renamed that Britannia had called her that.

"And I love you. Now and forever." Flying Dutchman replied and pulled back.

Confusion entered Britannia's eyes at first. Then Flying Dutchman gently tilted her head back and pressed her lips against hers.

Tears fell from both ships eyes but they were tears of joy. They had Inlustris and they had each other. What more could they want?


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 CARIBBEAN SEA MARCH 1698

Flying Dutchman sailed past Port Royal, her decks filed with Royal Navy sailors and marines.

She'd been back in the mortal realm barely a day and already she had a full deck!

Something or someone was going around sinking ships port and starboard and Flying Dutchman had a feeling she knew who it was.

It wasn't the first time she'd dealt with the effects of rogue pirates.

They'd appeared before 10 years earlier, causing minor damage to British merchant shipping.

They'd gone silent following the minor plague outbreak in 1687 and Flying Dutchman had thought she'd seen the last of them.

But apparently she was wrong.

They were back and they'd gotten bolder too, attacking British warships in the region on top of other things.

Flying Dutchman sighed, knowing Britannia would be pissed when she learned of this new development but the young fluyt wasn't sure if she should tell her.

Her mentor had a lot on her mind recently.

France was at war with England again and Britannia's temper had been short, her days long and her nights almost nonexistent.

Flying Dutchman couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Britannia sleep!

The old ship had been pushing herself hard these past few weeks and Flying Dutchman was worried about her health.

The last time she'd seen her mentor, Britannia had looked thin and worn.

She hadn't been eating much either, limiting herself to a measly portion of grog and salted bread.

It was with some reluctance, but very little, that Flying Dutchman decided not to tell Britannia about the rogue pirates.

Her mentor had enough on her plate and Flying Dutchman would not make it worse.

As the sun went down, she sent up the green flash that'd by now become a legend and sailed into the locker.

Dropping the navy men off at either Port Royal or London, whichever they wanted, Flying Dutchman set her course for her home.

Britannia was there when she arrived, reading over important looking government documents.

She did not seem to notice Flying Dutchman.

"Britannia?" Flying Dutchman asked, nudging her as she drew up alongside.

"Back already?" Britannia asked, surprised.

Flying Dutchman winced at how hoarse her mentor's voice sounded, as though she'd been coughing.

"I had a full deck." She replied with a shrug.

"How did you fill up so quickly" Britannia asked, surprised.

"It's war Britannia, what'd you expect?" Flying Dutchman answered curtly.

"But there hasn't been a naval engagement for weeks. Surely you couldn't be that far behind." Britannia said.

Her eyes narrowed. "Is there something you aren't telling me?" She asked.

Flying Dutchman sighed, knowing she had no other choice but to tell Britannia the truth.

She was dreading this.

"It appears the rogue pirates have returned to the Caribbean." She admitted at last.

Her words had the very affect upon her mentor that she'd feared.

Britannia leaped upright, sailing out of her berth, pacing back and forth her rigging lashing furiously.

"How dare they!" She snarled. "How dare they attack helpless merchants in a time like this!"

"It wasn't merchants, Britannia." Flying Dutchman sighed.

Britannia rounded on her. "Then what part of my empire did they attack?" She asked.

"They've gotten bolder." Flying Dutchman replied. 'The men I found were from a pair of brigs that came under fire."

Britannia's blue eyes blazed.

"First France, now this!" She cried. "You will help me track them down, Dutchman. We will find these bastards and we will bring them to justice, I swear it!" She shouted.

Her anger exhausted her of the last of her strength and she staggered.

Flying Dutchman leaped forward and caught her as she fell.

"You need to take it easy, Britannia." She said as the other ship groaned against her.

"Ugh…" Britannia rasped.

Flying Dutchman nuzzled her, carrying her into her berth.

"Now you rest." She ordered. "You need it."

Britannia pressed against her causing Flying Dutchman to smile.

She knew what her mentor's unspoken question was.

"I'm not going anywhere." She promised.

Britannia relaxed, falling asleep in minutes.

Flying Dutchman watched over her for the rest of the day, eventually falling asleep herself.

She woke with a crushing weight on her decks.

Struggling for a minute, she managed to twist her head around to see the weight was Britannia's bow.

Sighing, Flying Dutchman gave Britannia a nudge.

The other ship grunted.

"Wha…" She mumbled sleepily.

"Can you please get your bow off my decks, you're crushing me!" Flying Dutchman hissed.

She was also feeling unbearably hot.

Murmuring an apology, Britannia lifted her bow off her and Flying Dutchman moved to another part of the berth.

Britannia rested, curled up against the dock falling back asleep.

Frowning, Flying Dutchman noticed something different about her mentor.

Reaching out over the bond she found herself being harshly rebuked by strong mental shields and realized Britannia was blocking her.

"What are you hiding?" Flying Dutchman whispered, pressing her prow to Britannia's side.

She recoiled at once, burying her nose in the water to ensure it wasn't on fire.

Britannia's whole side gave off waves and waves of heat.

Flying Dutchman wondered how she couldn't see it shimmering on the water like a mirage it felt that hot.

If she looked hard enough, she could see sweat glisten on Britannia's hull as the sun rays hit it.

Her flanks didn't rise and fall evenly like they normally should.

Instead they rose and fell in a ragged, shallow pattern like Britannia was consciously making the effort to breathe.

No wonder she'd looked so tired. She couldn't even rest properly.

A quiet wheeze issued from her throat with every exhale.

"Oh what have you done…?" Flying Dutchman whispered.

She pulled up alongside her beloved mentor, rubbing her side against hers in the hopes that could help ease whatever pain Britannia felt in her lungs.

Though Britannia had firmly clamped down on her end of the bond, making it impossible for Flying Dutchman to feel her pain, that didn't stop the fluyt from sending tendrils of healing love across it.

Flying Dutchman could feel Britannia's resistance.

"You are so stubborn." She growled. "Let me in. Let me help."

Britannia remained steadfast, her mental shields as strong as ever.

She didn't want her dear apprentice feeling her agony.

"Damnit you!" Flying Dutchman snarled, pulling Britannia against her.

"I can help if you'd just let me!" She hissed.

Britannia's unfaltering resistance wavered.

"I can take it. I know I can. Please…." Flying Dutchman begged her.

With a mental sigh, Britannia conceded, lowering her mental shields.

Flying Dutchman was now able to send her healing efforts through.

At the same time, Britannia's own pain found its way along their shared mental link.

The old ship had no control over just how much of it got through, her mental energies exhausted.

Flying Dutchman almost collapsed at the sudden burning fire that entered her lungs.

Every breath hurt her beyond words could explain and she wondered just how Britannia had managed with agony like this.

Concentrating her efforts before the pain could cloud her judgment too badly, Flying Dutchman gently but firmly curbed back on her end of the bond, determining that only some of Britannia's burning pain got through.

Britannia relaxed, her pain eased somewhat thanks to Flying Dutchman's efforts.

The younger ship settled down beside her mentor, being unable to completely hide the worry that clouded her mind.

When Britannia fell ill, and that didn't happen very often, she became very ill usually for long periods of time.

Flying Dutchman wondered just how Britannia would be able to pull through this one.

Seeming to sense her worry, Britannia pressed closer to Flying Dutchman.

"I'm alright." Flying Dutchman assured her, sending waves of reassurance over the bond.

Britannia relaxed. Her breathing was still shallow but it was less ragged and had started to even out some.

Flying Dutchman smiled, leaning down to kiss Britannia atop her head.

"Sleep well my dearest mentor." She whispered.


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 THE LOCKER APRIL1698

Flying Dutchman paced back and forth outside Britannia's berth with increasing worry.

Britannia had gotten much worse these past few weeks.

Her fever soared and she could barely breathe at all.

Her coughing was probably the worst thing though.

As hard as she tried, Britannia just couldn't seem to clear her airways of the gunk that clogged them. The virus, whatever it was, prevented that.

It got so bad at times, Flying Dutchman had to smack her side repeatedly to prevent asphyxiation and lately, even that wasn't having as much of an affect as it used to.

Flying Dutchman had to face the real possibility that Britannia might not make it this time around.

The old ship was literally drowning in her own fluids.

Flying Dutchman visibly winced as she heard the awful hacking sound that she'd come to recognize as Britannia's cough nowadays.

It was followed a second later by a mental shriek. A cry for help.

Flying Dutchman whirled around and raced into the berth to Britannia's side.

Her mentor couldn't find the breath to speak her words so she resorted to using the bond.

It came in handy at times like these but Flying Dutchman knew, as surely did Britannia that it also caused pain.

By keeping the bond open between them, Britannia inadvertently insured that whatever she felt, Flying Dutchman would feel too.

The young fluyt could feel every harsh breath Britannia took, every pain filled cough. Every breath that felt as though she was breathing in fire, she could feel all of it.

And the more she felt, the more worried she got.

Britannia was very, very sick. There was no question about that.

A sense of loving concern washed over Flying Dutchman and she blinked, gazing down to meet Britannia's gentle gaze.

Despite her agony, Britannia's only thoughts were for her. She was worried for her.

"You're too selfless for your own good." Flying Dutchman scolded, rubbing her bow against hers gently and lovingly.

Britannia purred weakly, breaking into another coughing fit soon after.

As she spluttered and hacked, trying desperately to clear her lungs, Flying Dutchman rubbed her side, hoping to ease it for the time being.

When through, Britannia wheezed her thanks.

Flying Dutchman sighed. "Aren't you in the least bit concerned about your own well-being?" She asked.

Britannia's head flopped to one side as she tried to answer in gesture's rather than words.

"Carefully now." Flying Dutchman chided her as the effort sapped most of her strength.

Britannia's eyes flickered up to meet Flying Dutchman's.

Between gasps of breath she managed to say "I'm-only-concerned-for-you-Shadow."

"Shh, don't talk. Don't waste your energy." Flying Dutchman said sternly.

"Well-you-asked-so-I'm-answering." Britannia gasped.

"Go on then." Flying Dutchman said gently.

"The-only-thing-I-am-afraid-of-is-for-you. If-I-die, how-will-you-react?" She asked, hacking harshly to clear her throat.

"You're not going to die, Britannia. I won't let you die." Flying Dutchman whispered.

Secretly though, she was worried.

What if all her efforts were not good enough? She couldn't imagine a life without Britannia.

Her mentor meant everything to her and if she died…

"Please hold on, Britannia. Don't leave me…" She begged, her voice breaking.

She buried her bow in her mentor's hot side, tears running down the sides of her bow.

That's when she felt Britannia's hot breath against her ear as the older ship nuzzled her.

Finding her voice briefly, Flying Dutchman said "I love you."

Britannia's reply was barely a whisper but her words came out clear as she replied "I love you."

Flying Dutchman turned and while Britannia still had her bow raised she kissed her, hard.

A bit surprised at first, Britannia returned Flying Dutchman's passion, her bowsprit boom digging into her apprentice's shoulder.

Flying Dutchman grunted, deepening the kiss as she pressed back.

Britannia, having no strength to fight, submitted, rolling on her back, keel up, against the dock as Flying Dutchman came down atop her.

She eventually had to break off to gasp for air, her sides shuddering as she coughed again.

Still panting, she gazed up at Flying Dutchman, eternal love in her eyes, as her apprentice moved her lips downward, placing light kisses all down Britannia's keel.

"Don't you dare leave me." Flying Dutchman begged.

"W-wouldn't dream of it." Britannia replied, breathless.

A part of her wanted Flying Dutchman to continue and was disappointed when the younger ship backed off.

But she knew, just as well as Flying Dutchman did, that she was in no condition for intimacy at the moment.

Flying Dutchman backed off and Britannia lie there keel up in the berth, being unable to right herself.

Whimpering, Flying Dutchman nudged her.

"I'm alright." Britannia rasped. "But it seems I lack the ability to find my keel as it were."

Digging her teeth into the sides of Britannia's bow, Flying Dutchman pulled her upright.

The old ship proceeded to lean against her apprentice, harsh coughs wracking her frail frame.

Every one of her ribs showed and the lack of strength that Flying Dutchman could feel in her mentor's body frightened her.

Britannia hadn't been eating. She'd been coughing so much Flying Dutchman was afraid she'd choke herself.

But now she knew that somehow she would have to get food into her weakened mentor.

"Think you can keep some food down?" She asked her.

Britannia nodded and shifted back against the dock.

"I'll be back soon." Flying Dutchman promised her and raced out.

She returned an hour later with a swordfish.

Finding Britannia halfway out of the berth, lying on her side motionless, Flying Dutchman set the now forgotten swordfish on the dock and raced over to her.

"Britannia, Britannia?!" She cried, nudging her mentor harshly.

She got no response from the old ship.

Desperately reaching out over the bond, Flying Dutchman could sense nothing. Either Britannia was blocking her or the worst had happened.

But if it had, surely she would've felt it. Britannia had told her, shown her from her memories, what a broken bond looked like. It couldn't be missed.

_"__Unless," _A voice in her head told her. _"Britannia blocked the bond as it was severed, to spare you the pain." _

Somehow Flying Dutchman doubted that would happen.

She pressed her ear to Britannia's still, warm hull and heard, much to her relief, a faint, thready, but still existent heartbeat.

"You know how to give me a scare, Britannia!" She cried in relief, kissing the old ship repeatedly.

Britannia mumbled something unintelligible.

"What was that?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"Shadow.." Britannia groaned.

"I'm here. I'm right here." Flying Dutchman assured her.

"You were gone, a long time…" Britannia rasped.

"So you tried to come after me." Flying Dutchman realized.

Britannia nodded in conformation.

"Why not use the bond?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"Can't." Britannia replied. "Can't project, anything…"

Flying Dutchman sighed. "You lack the strength to project your thoughts. I understand." She said.

Plucking her from the sea which could easily be done because she'd become so light, Flying Dutchman carried Britannia back to her berth.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again!" Flying Dutchman growled.

"I won't." Britannia promised. "I'll be a good girl."

"I know you will." Flying Dutchman said. "You can start by eating this swordfish."

Gently, she placed the dead carcass in front of Britannia.

Britannia sniffed it, then pulled back.

"I know, it's not gutted but it won't kill you. It might actually help you even. Carolina told me entrails work on some of her patients." Flying Dutchman said.

Britannia fixed Flying Dutchman with an irritated glare.

It was a glare that said that wasn't what she meant. She was being misunderstood.

"Oh, so then what is it?" Flying Dutchman asked.

Britannia tried to push off from against the dock but she ended up falling back against it. She had no strength whatsoever.

"You can't bite into it. You can't even chew." Flying Dutchman realized.

Britannia bobbed her head slightly in conformation.

"I think I might have a way around that." Flying Dutchman said.

Biting into the swordfish herself she took a large piece of succulent meat then tore it into smaller sections.

She took the first small section and began chewing it. Once it was sufficiently chewed, she turned to Britannia, mouth full of meat.

Britannia understood what her apprentice was trying to do and opened her jaws slightly as Flying Dutchman dumped the half chewed meat into her mouth.

Britannia took several bites like this before she nodded for Flying Dutchman to stop.

Flying Dutchman nudged the half eaten swordfish away, allowing Britannia to lean on her once more.

"Rest well, my love." She whispered.

Britannia purred contentedly, nuzzling her apprentice's side before falling asleep beside her.

Flying Dutchman watched her. The past few weeks had been rough. Some days Britannia was better than others, some days she was worse.

This was one of Britannia's good days and still she could see the veiled glassy pain behind her eyes. She could hear the harshness of her cough.

Other days, Britannia was silent and still, the only sign of life being the faint rise and fall of her flanks and the hot breath from her nose.

Flying Dutchman didn't want to lose Britannia. She couldn't lose her, wouldn't! She'd sworn it!

But a part of her began to wonder if keeping Britannia alive was the right thing to do.

Her mentor was suffering, that much was clear.

Flying Dutchman could sense death circling her dear mentor and each day it seemed to seem deeper into her bones.

A chill ran down her spine at the very thought of what that image conjured.

Flying Dutchman wished with all her heart she didn't have to be facing such a question as the one that ran through her mind now.

She wanted so badly to keep Britannia alive, but would it be more merciful to just let her die?


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17 THE LOCKER MAY 1698

Britannia recovered slowly from her ordeal. Her harsh wracking coughs began to subside and her fever dropped.

By the beginning of May, she was still weak and would still cough is she worked too hard but she was on the mend.

At the moment, she was resting relatively soundly and Flying Dutchman set down the cod she had caught.

She did a routine check on Britannia, observing her breathing.

It was even and there was hardly a wheeze at all.

Opening her end of the bond, Flying Dutchman still felt a pang of pain in Britannia's lungs but it wasn't nearly as bad as it was before.

Touching her nose to her mentor's side, Flying Dutchman could still feel the heat coming off Britannia's hull.

The old ship was still hot but it wasn't the fire it was previously.

Flying Dutchman smiled. "Back to your old self then eh?" She purred.

Britannia hummed her agreement.

Flying Dutchman dropped down beside her, nuzzling her side as a soft cough escaped her.

"It's alright." She soothed as Britannia struggled.

The older ship relaxed against her, letting herself go into a full blown coughing fit.

While her coughs weren't nearly as deep or as painful sounding as they once were, that didn't mean they had lessoned in number. If anything, they'd only gotten worse.

"Oh, Britannia…" Flying Dutchman whispered as her mentor leaned against her, her coughs wracking her whole body.

Any thoughts of healing left Flying Dutchman the instant she saw this.

She noticed with a pang of fear that Britannia was gasping for air in between coughs, having difficulty finding it.

Swiftly, she gave the old ship a smack on the side.

Britannia lunged forward, coughing harshly before a wad of green phlegm landed on the dock, expelled by her desperate attempts.

Britannia collapsed against Flying Dutchman, her sides heaving, her jaws parted and her eyes half open.

"Thank you." She murmured weakly.

"You're welcome." Flying Dutchman replied.

Britannia closed her eyes again.

Flying Dutchman remained beside her, content to let her sleep.

When Britannia woke again a few hours later she turned her attention to the cod lying on the dock.

Snatching it up, she downed it in a few quick gulps.

Flying Dutchman purred her amusement at this.

"I see you have no trouble finding your appetite Britannia." She said.

Britannia swiped her tongue once around her jaws to remove the last scraps of cod before replying "Cod is the best. Thank you Shadow."

Flying Dutchman nuzzled her, a low purr sounding as she heard her old name.

She always enjoyed hearing it. In some ways she believed Lang Schadow to be even more precious than Flying Dutchman, especially when Britannia translated it into the English, Long Shadow.

It caused her great pleasure and Britannia knew it.

Britannia leaned forward and Flying Dutchman could feel her hot breath tickling her ear as the older ship whispered to her.

"Long Shadow, my dear Long Shadow." She purred.

Flying Dutchman quivered at this, her rigging rattling as pleasure coursed through her.

Britannia chuckled , knowing she held her heart long before the trackless seas of the mortal and locker realms ever did.

Britannia pushed in for a kiss that Flying Dutchman happily and fully submitted to.

She chuckled as her apprentice eagerly nibbled on her lower lip.

"Patience Shadow." She purred.

She pinned Flying Dutchman against the dock, hearing the other ship whimper. Needy, desperate, wanting…

Britannia smiled, determined to grant her wish, eventually.

Her own desires were put on hold though as pain swept through her lungs and she tried hard to expel it in the form of a loud, wracking cough.

She had the decency to turn her head away.

Flying Dutchman watched her with growing concern.

For Britannia, the pain only grew worse the more she coughed and fear filled her when she realized she couldn't take a breath in between.

She began to feel light headed from the lack of air and her vision blurred until a sharp smack on her side dislodged whatever it was that was blocking her lungs.

She gasped in air sharply, her hydrogen starved organs absorbing the precious gas.

She felt Flying Dutchman pressing against her.

"Shadow…" She rasped.

"I'm here." Flying Dutchman's voice sounded strained.

Britannia winced. She hated hearing her apprentice sound so distraught and over her no less!

"I owe you one." Britannia sighed.

"You owe me nothing." Flying Dutchman replied gently.

Britannia curled up at her side.

"I love you." She whispered.

Flying Dutchman smiled, nuzzling her gently.

"I love you too." She replied sweetly.

"I don't think intimacy is a good idea right now." Britannia said with a smile.

Flying Dutchman chuckled.

At least her mentor hadn't lost her sense of humor.

"You're probably right." She agreed.

She kissed her gently.

"You get better and I'll treat you first class."

Britannia purred at this. "I look forward to it." She said.

A yawn escaped her.

Flying Dutchman smiled. "Sleep." She ordered.

Britannia had no trouble obeying that command.

Pressing against her apprentice, she went quietly to sleep.

Flying Dutchman watched her for a few more moments before settling down beside her.

"Goodnight Britannia." She murmured before she drifted off to sleep herself.


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 THE LOCKER MAY 1698

It was almost June when Britannia recovered enough to resume her duties.

She was still weak and would occasionally get winded if she worked too hard.

But at least, and Flying Dutchman could confidently believe this, that Britannia was finally on the mend.

Flying Dutchman returned late that day to find her mentor painting outside.

She was humming to herself happily.

"Nice to see you in a good mood!" Flying Dutchman called.

Britannia turned to her and smiled. "Thanks to you." She replied.

"Ah, I can't take credit. You just needed a little push is all." Flying Dutchman replied.

"I had a little help coming up with the paints though."

"Oh, who helped you?" Britannia asked.

Flying Dutchman grinned, glancing down at the water.

As the Kraken emerged, she turned to a wide-eyed Britannia and said "Britannia, meet Kraken."

The old ship eyed the cephalopod curiously.

"We met once before I think." She said.

_"__Yes, as I recall I tried to destroy you."_ The Kraken said.

Britannia shrugged. "You'd had a bad string of luck and were very desperate for food. I don't hold it against you." She replied.

"How did you survive Britannia?" Flying Dutchman asked, shuddering as she recalled her own first encounter with her pet.

"She let me go. Said I was 'different'." Britannia replied.

"She said the same thing about me!" Flying Dutchman exclaimed, surprised.

"Our powers give off a scent unique to other ships. Oh, not one we ourselves can smell." Britannia added quickly as her apprentice tasted the air.

"But they are recognizable to certain creatures such as Kraken."

Flying Dutchman nodded. Now she understood.

_"__When I came across you, your scent carried that of magic but it wasn't nearly as strong as Britannia's. Britannia, I can never forget her scent. She's a living vessel of the stars themselves. You, yours is a different magic. I could smell the stars on you, likely because of your interaction with Britannia. The smell of dark magic, however, frightening abilities were stronger and one of those abilities was to be a submarine. That's why I pulled you underwater. I wanted to show you what you could do."_ The Kraken explained.

"Submarine, that's what you're calling it?" Flying Dutchman laughed.

Britannia chuckled too.

"It was nice meeting you Kraken." She said.

_"__And you."_ The Kraken smiled and dove beneath the water.

As soon as she was gone, Britannia's smile faded and she turned to her apprentice.

"How long have you had Kraken?" She asked.

Ten years." Flying Dutchman shrugged.

"And you never once thought to tell me?" Britannia sounded more hurt than angry.

Flying Dutchman winced. "I'm sorry." She said.

"I thought you trusted me." Britannia said brokenly.

"I do!" Flying Dutchman cried.

Britannia just shook her head and turned away.

"Britannia!" Flying Dutchman yelled, blocking the older ship's path. "Stop, let's talk about this."

"What is there to talk about?" Britannia snorted.

"I trusted you to tell me what goes on and you didn't. There's nothing more to it." She pushed past Flying Dutchman.

"As if you don't have secrets of your own!" Flying Dutchman growled, beginning to lose patience.

Britannia paused. "I don't share them with just anyone." She said. "One has to earn my trust."

"And did I?" Flying Dutchman asked.

Britannia nodded. "Only one other ship can know my secrets and that's because I'm forced to share them. I'm bound to her orders." Britannia sighed.

"The British commander." Flying Dutchman realized.

Now she understood why Britannia was feeling this way.

The fluyt was the only ship, _the only ship _who Britannia actually trusteed, chose to trust, with her secrets. And here she was keeping her own, no wonder Britannia was hurt by this!

Shifting awkwardly, lying Dutchman said "Well you never told me anything so I just assumed…" Britannia cut her off.

"You just assumed that I didn't trust you." She whispered.

Flying Dutchman nodded solemnly.

Britannia looked away. "You should know me better than that." She whispered.

Flying Dutchman felt a pang of heart wrenching sorrow before, nothing.

Absolutely nothing, not even the usual buzzing in the back of her mind that would indicate the bond was present between them.

Frantic, she reached out over the bond only to find that she couldn't.

"Britannia…" She whispered. "What have you done?

"It's not dead, merely dormant." Britannia replied. "And I will keep it that way until I feel that I can trust you again."

Flying Dutchman let her sail past her, too lost to do anything. "I'm sorry Britannia." She whispered.

"Being sorry and being forgiven are two different things. Perhaps one day, I will forgive you. But I can't yet." Britannia replied and vanished inside her tent, leaving the half-finished painting behind.

Flying Dutchman sighed. "I still love you." She whispered brokenly after her and sailed off to her own berth for the night.

The following weeks Flying Dutchman spent sailing aimlessly between the mortal realm and the Locker.

She rarely saw Britannia anymore.

The old ship wasn't home to greet her usually or if she was there, she'd merely give Flying Dutchman a cool nod but she never said anything.

Her silence hurt Flying Dutchman more than anything and the fluyt longed for the days when they were close. _"She'll come around." _The Kraken assured her.

Flying Dutchman winced momentarily as the Kraken's voice filled her head before replying "I miss her."

_"__I know you do." _The Kraken sighed. _"But she needs time." _

"I'll always wait for her." Flying Dutchman said.

_"__I know you will." _The Kraken replied._ "You Love her."_

"She means everything to me." Flying Dutchman agreed.

_"__I know she does. I cannot claim to know everything about a ship bond but I do know it's sacred and more precious than diamonds." _The Kraken said.

Flying Dutchman nodded. She missed her mentor now more than ever.

"God I've been stupid." She sighed.

Why hadn't she just told Britannia about the Kraken? If she had this whole thing could've been avoided.

Her mentor's beautiful face crowded her mind like it had often these past few weeks.

Her bright sea blue eyes burned their way into Flying Dutchman's soul, forever leaving an imprint on her memory.

She was shaken from her thoughts as the Kraken cried out _"Fleet of ships on the horizon"! _

Flying Dutchman turned and sure enough there they were.

There were about fourteen of them, most were fast sloops escorted by a few brigs.

What stood out, even from this distance was the demon red flag.

Flying Dutchman could hear the Kraken's hungry growl in her mind.

There was only one thing this fleet could be.

"The Rogues!" Flying Dutchman hissed.


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter 19 CARIBBEAN SEA JUNE 1698

Flying Dutchman could see they had the advantages of crossing the T and the weather gage.

The weather gage meant that when Flying Dutchman came up alongside, she'd be stuck in their lee, out of the wind.

Crossing the T meant they could bring all their guns to bear across Flying Dutchman's bow as she came in close.

At least, that's how it would work if she was a normal ship.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Flying Dutchman asked the Kraken.

_"__Time to get wet and get dirty!" _The Kraken laughed.

Flying Dutchman grinned and dove down beneath the waves, gaining speed as she went.

She could travel much faster under the e water than she ever could on the surface.

Approaching to the point blank range of 25 yards, she thrust her bow above water and before the enemy ships could get over their confusion, she opened fire.

Two ships had their single masts toppled and were dead in the water at once.

The rest shot a barrage of canon at where they'd last seen Flying Dutchman.

Quickly, Flying Dutchman dove but she wasn't fast enough.

A lucky shot hit the tip of her mainmast, causing the tip to break.

Unfortunately it held the topmast sail and Flying Dutchman, bleeding heavily from the wound, was forced to surface.

About 150 cannons were waiting for her when she breached, the sloops and the brigs having lined up broadside.

They had no intentions of giving her a chance to settle before they fired.

Flying Dutchman closed her eyes and braced herself to die.

Canon fire did come, but not at her.

Fierce fire rained down on the gathered sloops.

A voice shouted "Get away from her!"

Flying Dutchman opened her eyes to see Britannia charging in, firing guns on both sides.

"Britannia!" Flying Dutchman cried.

Britannia changed course towards her.

"Are you crazy?!" She shouted.

She gave her apprentice a fierce nudge.

"We've got to get out of here!" She growled.

"Britannia, these are the rogues. I'm not letting them get away after all this time!" Flying Dutchman shouted back.

Britannia looked unsure.

"Come on, we can take 'em." Flying Dutchman insisted.

Britannia nodded. Alright, stay close to me." She growled and turned back to face the opposing fleet.

"It's time to face your dues, devil spawn!" She snarled and attacked.

Flying Dutchman charged in ahead of her, being lighter and faster than her mentor.

"Kraken!" She cried to her pet.

The Kraken raced in alongside, taking out two ships with her tentacles.

Cannon shells rained down on all sides and a few made their mark but the damage was minor, their effect minimal.

"That all you got?!" Flying Dutchman taunted and swung her bow around hard, unleashing a broadside.

Two sloops were forced to fall out of line.

Once Flying Dutchman drew close enough, chaos began.

Teeth were used in place of guns as she went head to head against the enemy fleet.

One ship lunged at her, bowling her over on her back.

It was Carolina. The sloop had blood dripping down into her eyes and her teeth were bared, just inches from Flying Dutchman's throat.

Then she recognized who she was attacking and backed off.

Flying Dutchman took the opportunity and pounced.

She pinned the struggling sloop underneath her keel.

"I've got one word of advice to you, run!" Flying Dutchman snarled in her ear.

Carolina nodded meekly, her eyes flashing her gratefulness.

Flying Dutchman let her go and she raced off the battle field heading west for Tortuga.

"Good girl." Flying Dutchman thought.

She launched herself back into the battle.

Britannia had four ships on her and Flying Dutchman raced in to help.

A brig blocked her way.

Snarling, Flying Dutchman engaged her.

Cannon's fired their deadly ammo, smoke obscured bot ship's vision and teeth flashed as they bit and nipped at each other's hulls, hoping to strike a sensitive spot.

Flying Dutchman sank her teeth into the brig's deck ads reward with a yowl.

She let go and the brig raced off.

Flying Dutchman turned and met Britannia's gaze.

Her mentor had blood running down from a blody nose and her hws were parted as she gasped for air.

That's when it happened.

One moment of distraction was all it too.

Flying Dutchman saw the muzzle flash and a second later Britannia gasped as her man in mast was struck.

Incredibly, it remained standing.

More flashes followed until, a fierce crack and an agonized scream filled Flying Dutchman's ears.

Time slowed down, it seemed to take na eternity for the mainmast to hit the water but when it did, Flying Dutchman could feel its resounding splash deep within her soul.

HMS Britannia, pride of the Royal Navy, appointed Protector of the might British Empire, was left dismasted and bleeding out on the water.


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter 20 CARIBBEAN SEA JUNE 1968

"Britannia!" Flying Dutchman cried.

She raced forward only to have the five ships that attacked her mentor turn on her.

Flying Dutchman stopped.

"You should've run away chika." The leader said through a heavy Spanish accent.

She advanced and Flying Dutchman bared her teeth, ready to meet her challenge.

More cannon fire sounded and Flying Dutchman whipped around to see a British patrol charging in with guns blazing.

Among them was "Wicked Wench?!" Flying Dutchman exclaimed in disbelief.

"You again?!" Wicked Wench exclaimed, her eyes widening.

Flying Dutchman nodded.

"Didn't think I'd be fighting pirates to defend pirates." Wicked Wench said.

"I'm not a pirate." Flying Dutchman growled.

"Then what are you?" Wicked Wench asked.

"I am Flying Dutchman." Flying Dutchman growled.

"Britannia's apprentice." Wicked Wench realized.

Flying Dutchman nodded. "That's me." She agreed.

Wicked Wench saluted. "After you ma'am." She said.

Flying Dutchman chuckled and charged in.

The remaining pirate ships either fled or were destroyed.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Flying Dutchman laughed.

Her happiness was short lived as agonizing pain shot through all her mental berries, invading her whole body.

Flying Dutchman gasped, trying hard to remain upright.

"Dutchman, what's wrong?" Wicked Wench asked, using her shoulder to support the failing fluyt.

Images ran through Flying Dutchman's head in a way that made them seem as if they were on a time delay.

But the most overwhelming thing was a deep agonizing pain and fear, fear that was not her own.

It made Britannia's mental shriek for help 2 months prior look like a small squeal.

"Britannia!" Flying Dutchman whispered and raced off.

Her mentor was listing heavily to one side.

Flying Dutchman raced forward and caught her before she fell.

Her head rolled limply against Flying Dutchman's hull.

"Britannia, look at me!" She begged. "Look at me!"

Desperately she reached out over the bond only to find it was not working.

Britannia was still blocking her.

"HMS Britannia, you will not leave me!" She growled.

She nudged her mentor.

"Britannia, please…" She cried.

"Shadow…"

Flying Dutchman froze.

She'd heard her mentor sob, heard her angry, heard her rage and rant even but never, never had she ever heard Britannia _beg._

Never had her cherished name been whispered in such desperation.

"I'm here. I'm here." Flying Dutchman assured her.

Britannia whimpered, letting Flying Dutchman hold her close.

"Shadow, help me…" Britannia sobbed.

Flying Dutchman held her tighter at this.

"It's gonna be alright." She whispered. "You're gonna be fine. A British patrol is here. We'll get you back to Liverpool."

"I'm sorry." Britannia rasped.

"For what?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"For silencing the bond. I didn't want to do it but it was necessary for my mission." Britannia replied.

"You mean you weren't mad at me?" Flying Dutchman asked.

"How could I never be mad at you, Shadow?" Britannia replied.

"I was involved in a top secret assignment by the British government and I couldn't have the bond interfering with my duties. You weren't supposed to know what I was doing. I'd long since guessed about the Kraken's existence and your friendship. It isn't easy to hide things through a bond." Britannia murmured.

"So you muted it, making me think you were angry with me." Flying Dutchman guessed.

"I know you Shadow, muting the bond without a clear reason why would've only upset you more." Britannia replied, her voice fading.

Flying Dutchman nudged her.

"Hey, stay awake for me!" She growled.

Britannia groaned.

"Wicked Wench!" Flying Dutchman cried.

The younger merchant raced over.

"Wha-oh. Exor, quickly!" She shouted to another ship in the patrol.

HMS Exor was the Royal Navy's healer at the time.

She bounded over quickly.

"Britannia…" She gasped.

The great ship looked awful, her mainmast lying in the water, blood pouring from the wound like a fountain to pool up on deck.

Weakly, Britannia raised her head to look up at Exor.

"How bad?" She croaked.

"Bad." Exor replied.

Britannia whimpered as Exor pressed a tourniquet to her wound.

"I'm going to have to splint it." She said.

Britannia nodded, bracing herself.

Flying Dutchman took up station on Britannia's opposite side, supporting the larger ship as Exor began to lift the severed mainmast out of the water.

Britannia shrieked and her agony was felt by Flying Dutchman who held her tightly.

"It's okay. It's okay." She whispered over and over again.

Britannia sobbed into her apprentice's side.

Flying Dutchman rocked her gently.

"Shh, shh." She whispered.

Britannia wailed into her side, her whole body convulsing as Exor twisted the broken splintered mast back into place.

"Please, please stop!" She cried.

"She can't. We have to get that mainmast back up so you can sail." Flying Dutchman replied.

Exor tied a brace to the mast and backed off.

"That should do it though I warn against anything strenuous Britannia." She said to her leader.

Britannia nodded, leaning into her apprentice as Flying Dutchman nuzzled her.

"You love her don't you?" Exor murmured.

IT was more of a statement than an actual question.

Britannia nodded.

"Yes were bonded." She replied.

Exor didn't seem surprised by this.

"All I can say is I'm happy for you Britannia. It's about time you found someone to love." She said.

"Thank you." Britannia dipped her head.

Flying Dutchman held her.

"We'll get you to Liverpool. You'll have a nice long rest and you'll be fine." She said.

Britannia smiled warmly at her.

"As long as you stay with me, I have nothing to fear." She said.

Flying Dutchman smiled and pulled her in for a kiss.


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter 21 LIVERPOOL ENGLAND JULY 1698

Chapter 21 LIVERPOOL ENGLAND JULY 1698

It took them 3 weeks to reach Liverpool.

The Ancients must've been on their side because they had the wind at their backs the whole way, didn't have to tack once.

Even at this frantic pace, Britannia was still weakening.

Exor's splint didn't stop the bleeding and since that blood had nowhere to escape to now, it was running freely outside her veins.

Shocking that her own blood could be poisonous to her.

Her pallor had changed too.

She was lighter, turning whiter and her eyes were more ray than blue.

"You hold on Britannia~" Flying Dutchman growled

"I'm trying…" Britannia's voice was strained.

Flying Dutchman whimpered and nuzzled her.

"Please don't leave me." She begged.

"I won't." Britannia promised.

Lying Dutchman held her to her side as the great ship staggered.

"Just a little farther Britannia. Just another ½ km and you can rest" She said.

Britannia moaned, her teeth bared as she panted hard.

"Don't give up, please." Flying Dutchman begged.

"I won't leave you Shadow." Britannia groaned. "Whether I'm with you in body or spirit I'll always be with you." She promised.

"Don't die. I need you here." Flying Dutchman sobbed.

"No promises there." Britannia grunted.

"Britannia, please." Flying Dutchman cried.

Britannia sighed and let her apprentice carry her to her berth.

Flying Dutchman set her down and docked beside her.

"You still there Shadow?" Britannia asked.

"Yes and I'm not going anywhere." Flying Dutchman replied.

"Stay?" Britannia asked.

"I promised you once I'd stay by you till the end and I'll keep that promise." Flying Dutchman replied.

She seemed to be increasingly aware of Britannia's chances.

Britannia sighed.

"I love you." She whispered through the bond.

"And I love you." Flying Dutchman replied back.

Her healing love flowed over the bond, lending Britannia strength.

Britannia leaned back, rolling on her side against the dock.

Flying Dutchman settled down beside her.

"I love you so much…" She whispered.

"I love you more." Britannia murmured, her eye closing.

Flying Dutchman nuzzled her.

"That's it, rest." She whispered.

Britannia sighed and quite happily went to sleep.

Flying Dutchman didn't dare close her eyes.

She didn't dare go to sleep herself, keeping a close eye on dear mentor.

She kept the bond open, continuously yielding her own strength to Britannia.

By morning, she was exhausted but she would not yield.

Britannia stirred.

She'd rolled sometime during the night so she was now leaning heavily against Flying Dutchman.

She was shocked at her apprentice's state.

"Dutchman, what have you done? She whispered.

"What I had to do." Flying Dutchman replied. "Helping you."

"But not like this." Britannia whimpered, nuzzling her.

"You look half dead."

"And you don't look much better yourself." Flying Dutchman countered.

Britannia sighed. "Rest Shadow, I'm not going anywhere just yet." She promised.

"You better not!" But there was no malice Flying Dutchman's statement.

Her voice was already fading and she was sleep before her head hit Britannia's top deck.

The older ship smiled, holding her.

She tried to send her own healing love to Flying Dutchman but her apprentice remained her stubborn self, blocking her every attempt.

"You silly thing." Britannia chuckled, kissing the top of her head.

She watched over Flying Dutchman for the rest of the day.

Since then, Britannia refused to accept any of Flying Dutchman's healing efforts and it showed.

She grew weaker and was soon unable to hold herself upright.

She'd gone from on the mend to the brink of death in hours.

Exor returned late that afternoon.

"I could try bleeding her." She said to Flying Dutchman.

The fluyt dipped her head.

"Do anything you can to save her." She begged.

Flying Dutchman gazed down at her mentor.

Britannia was lying on her side as she had been for the last 90 minutes.

Only the faint rise and fall of her flanks showed she was alive.

Exor gently pressed her tools to Britannia's shoulder, drawing about a pint of blood before closing her up again.

Britannia had been struggling to keep herself alive the whole time and the sudden loss of blood only made her condition worse.

She went into shock shortly after.

It was sometime after midnight when she woke again.

"Shadow, are you there?"

Flying Dutchman raced over to her mentor's side at once upon hearing her call.

"I'm here." She replied, nuzzling her.

Britannia managed to calm her frantic breathing a bit before saying "Shadow you must find the truth."

"What do you mean?" Flying Dutchman asked.

Britannia groaned.

It took her several minutes to find her voice again.

_"__Find the truth_

_Moonlach Onthude._

_From a Wench so Wicked_

_To a Pearl so Black._

_Blood of your blood,_

_Bone of your bone._

_Find the truth,_

_Moonlach Onthude."_

Britannia locked eyes with her apprentice.

"Find her, Long Shadow and you'll never go astray." She rasped.

As those blue eyes clouded over, all Britannia's memories, her whole life was fed through the bond to Flying Dutchman.

As one partner died, she would ensure the other would carry a part of her with her.

This was why the breaking of a bond was so painful.

"I love you…" Britannia whispered in Flying Dutchman's ear.

"Britannia…" Flying Dutchman gasped.

In desperation, she held her mentor tightly to her side and kissed her fiercely.

Britannia responded weakly at first before she went limp against Flying Dutchman, her last breath captured on her desperate apprentice's lips…

_RIP HMS BRITANNIA _

_OCTOBER 24, 4475 BCE- JULY 4, 1698_


End file.
